Immergence
by Be'Reshit
Summary: Sara embarks on a case that connects to Nottingham's Past. Elements from the Comic as well as TV are both taken here. I'm new, dont tear me to shreds, but read and enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

"I love you, Sara." 

Tall, Dark, and Handsome.  
Mysterious, and Persistant.  
All traits any woman might go into orbit over, especially after hearing the exulation that came from him a few seconds ago. Well I happen to be no ordinary woman I reminded myself, and again. Wait scratch that. Besides myself, the reminders come from everyone and everything else who tends to have an interest in the silver on my wrist. This man's previous employer was definately no exception. Yes, Im not a normal person. As a matter of fact, Ive come to the conclusion that I am complete insanity, reincarnated and undercover. And this man before me, Watching me intently to see how I will react,is a far cry from normality as well.

"Ian..." Sara made contact with his eyes, as cold and motionless as they tend to stay, in their concealment of grey. Even in such a moment as this, Ian Nottingham holds no notions of feeling. Some would say, such a precedent couldn't be found in him. The embodiment of his soul is his work. Whether its infiltrating a Yakuza warlord's family for British Intelligence, or being the personal Bodyguard for what was one of the World's richest men, Nottingham has always made his buisness his loyalty.

A life of a such a renown Assasin-ship comes with a weighty price. A price that cannot afford the comforts of feelings or sentiments as he knows too well.

But Ian is no ordinary man, nor is he one without a backbone to his existance.For What is failure? Only a goal that needs more attention. Something, that, through the years of exposure to this lass, Sara Pezzini, he has felt time and time again. He knows what she will say in return, and in a vague expression of hope, contrary to his nature, he doesnt care. Aside from the look in her eyes that speak of power and rejection, he knows as well as she, she cares anyway.

"Sara..."

His voice was barely audible, under his British intonation. In a brave notion, he reached for her hand, just to take it, to hold it before she dissapeared once again. In a moment of unguarded security, she didnt resist.

"I dont know why you do Ian, but you know, better then I, we can never be."

Direct, and to the point. What else can I be? This was always the way its been between us. A yes, or a no. But really, is an enigma ever direct? Just by the simple nature of confussion and contradiction, can there be certainty?  
Oh god, listen to myself, I sound like a walking Philosophy for Dummies thesis. Either that, or Irons lives beyond the grave to haunt me with his conundrum antics. In all words, my existance is bigger then fiction. And From my life experience, a yes does exist because no will always keep the locale uniform. A balance of light and dark, the ying to the yang, that formidable force keeping the world above ground, balance. What a truth it becomes. A conclusion, a certainty. The reason I weild this blasted Witchblade. To bring balance to the force.  
No, Sara.  
Thats Star Wars.  
But Lucas wasnt far off at all.

Yes.  
The direct approach. The only way I find a profound truth. Thats why at the same time, my words can give him a resounding no, while my heart can let him embrace my hand with a resounding yes. Pez what are you doing? Your a cop, get a grip  
Sara pulled away her hand, in an attempt to once again align her words with her actions.

"I want you to stop this, to stop following me."

At that, she turned and in a brisk walk headed to the Edge of Central Park.  
Nottingham continued to stare on, as she gradually turned into a distant shadow before him.

This is exactly what I need now. A pronouncment of love from a born on killer.  
The profound marksman, esoteric executioner, bound enforcer. One of the four men in the world who could match one bullet in two skulls.

Yeah.

As if my life isnt complicated enough.  
The Homocide detective and the Assassin. That would go down in my department as well as a fart in a diver's helmet.  
Definately not. Definately not. But on the other hand, he does have a nice set of arms..

Sara continued the parade of thoughts in her head, until, a presence coming from behind her broke her stream. Expecting it to be Nottingham, she slowly turned around, ready to defend her sense of justice before him once and for all, until, an all together different picture immerged. A young boy, about six years into his existance, eyes filled with fear, laced with terror, looked up at her. Sara immediately brought her attention to him with the upmost concern.

"Are you lost, hon?"

The boy stared on at her, eyes now duly fixed, vocal chords silent.

"Its okay, dont worry, we'll find your parents."

Sara continueed to gaze upon the boy. Something was strange about him, his eyes. Empty and cold. Distant. As if right on cue to lay her suspicions to rest, the cerise stone engraved in silver that lay upon her wrist came to life. No visions accompanied it. It just illumiated radiantly over the slim lights of the street.The boy looked intently upon the stone, and then back to Sara.  
In bewilderment at the show it decided to make, she once again took her focus back to the situation at hand, and reached for the boy. Before a connection could be made, the boy fled into the nightfall of the park.

Great, Sara thought. I sometimes wonder why I cannot have a normal Saturday night. But again, how much of an idiot can I be? the kid was smart. I think I would run from someone whose bracelet just decided to glow like ET's UFO for no apparent reason. And As it stands, Children's natural instincts to feel out people are legendary to begin with. Maybe my presence was less then inviting,and granted, the kid has it all right there, but I'd rather him take his chances with me then the other faultless personalities that like to frequent Central Park after dark.

With that motion, the night would continue to drag on as the fight for making all things right amongst missing children in Central Park began.  
As she came up to one of the bridges, his shadow slipped between the darkness.

Great, where did he go  
She continued to scout the area, with no avail, and the no avail part really irked her. Shes a detective, for heaven sake. She has taken on cases and found the bad guys that seemingly had no trail to follow, and yet, here in the endaggered atmosphere of this Autumn night, she just been eluded by a little boy. A scared little boy, lost, and in danger.

Just as that last thought pierced her mind, a scream came from the nearby distance. Following the commotion to a clearing filled with trees, she caught sight of the boy, in the arms of a less then kosher human, standing medium height, heavy denium jacket and stocky in build. Ready-ing her pistol from the realms under her pantleg, the screams of the boy were replaced with the threats issuing from the would-be kidnapper.

"You want me to cut him? Back away from here you freak, or I will gut this one and kill you." The man held a knife out, aimed toward the boys throat, his grip clutching to his jacket. Sara quickly took the a saftey off, ready to fire, until a vision from beyond stopped her.

Ian Nottingham was standing full height, his ebony hair flowing beind him in a cascading wind, like an Avenging Angel. He looked on to the creep in question, before he disarmed the man, left the boy free from his grasp where he fled off into the darkness once more, and the man laid knocked out on his backside. Briskly struggling to get to his feet, the man eventually did, and ran off into the night.

Sara stood puzzled. Adleast she thought Ian disarmed him. But concerning the shadows or her eyes, she didnt see Nottingham make contact. If it wasnt for the end result of the man picking himself off the ground and fleeing with his tale between his legs, she would vouche he didnt. Did she ever see something as supernatual as Nottingham's stealth? As if right on cue, her bracelet started to glow its fire red once more admist the emcampment of shadows.As previously, no visions came. Before she could think or reason past events of the past 10 minutes, Ian was at the aid of the small lad who was curled into a fetal postion behind a bush.Without verbal words, the boy was up to his feet currently mesmerized by his messiah. From the position Sara was, she could manifest a different sensation among Ian's stature. He longingly stared upon the boy.

As Sara came from behind her hiding place, Ian's gaze among the boy went to Sara's green eyes.  
With a wounded look, Nottingham took one last look upon the boy, and then fled.

"Nottingham!" She called out to him, But only her own voice reflected in the night air.

The stone continued to Glow, brighter and brighter. In a feeble attempt to quiet the fear in the young boy, she placed her arm behind her back. But it continued to illumiate, and he was intently fixed upon the glare it seemed to cast behind her.  
His his lips were poised shut.  
Sara struggled to find words to help.

"Dont worry, hon. Im going to help you find your home. Can you trust me?"

No comment issued from him. "What is you name?"

With a deathly stare, the boy continued to look right into Sara, and silence proceeded for a time.

"Sage."

As an escaping bright light poured from behind her arm, she pulled it out in front of her in a feeble attempt to control or block the stone. After a blinding flash, it quieted to its dormat state, and Sara recompossed herself.

The state in front of her issued a strangeness. The boy was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

_You know Sara...You know who.  
You know Sara...You know who..._

The mantra continued out of her crimson stained lips. Her Ebony hair was in a disarray, clinging back in forth between her damp skin. Through the dark strands, her marvelous azure orbs shone through. As she stared on into the grey that slowly surrounded her, she extended her hand, as a silver chain dropped and caught on her index finger. As it fluttered, the clunk of a emblem settled on the bottem, as per the law of gravity. An encrested shield immerged, flipping back and forth as the chain slowly settled from its twirl.

As the air ever became more tenebrous, the woman slowly slipped between the shadows as her voice rose from a quiet whisper to a thunderous roar.

_YOU KNOW SARA.  
YOU KNOW WHO..._

* * *

Her breathing at a rapid pace, Sara woke up to the familiar crimson colour illuminating her apartment. Its been ages since she remembers a time she had a decent night sleep. Since she's been in contact with the blade, its given her nothing but enigmas over mystifications. Dreams, visions, Realms...

Sara rubbed her head in an atempt to clear her mind. Of course that outward motion never works, but its the justification that maybe, somehow, it could remove the thought anyway.  
It doesnt.  
She glared back down at her arm, eyes glazed over in her half slumbered state. A minimal light issued forth not as bright as previously from the stone. As she gazed upon it moments longer, she sighed lightly.  
The City lights crawled in from her blinds to cast shadows everywhere upon all fixtures in her apartment. In a moment of childish fear, she curled the blankets around her in an attempt to blot out all the scenarios that the darkness would manifest in her mind. Craddling herself in a rocking motion, she breathed heavily, saddly.

"No, I dont know..." She helplessly expressed to the darkness.  
"I really dont..."

* * *

Morning came without incident. As it always does.  
For there is a saying about things in certitude, there will always be Death and Taxes.  
Well mornings could be added to that picture. Though The certainty of mornings remains grim for the victims that fall into the vices of death, it doesnt change the fact the sun still rises, the rain still falls, and this spinning jewel in space will always revive to supply the basis for life.

Among Earth's places the strange little city known as New York always seems to supply death in the most vile intent, and with abundance.As a matter of fact, building faith in the idea that this world will always be driven toward insanity to the highest degree, Sara Pezzeni has made it her career. To minister law and order, sometimes with her fireballs of justice. To bring wrongs to rights, and tie up loose ends for the justification of what is simply good. It sustains her living,(even though the pay could be better), and her reasons for surviving. Although knowing very well, this is another element that weighs the scales.  
Although it seems the scale has tipped in the favour of the wicked for the most part.

Speeding into the available parking lot, Sara revved her bike one last time before shutting the inition off. Finding her footing, she unlocked her helmet, and carefully removed it to reveal her medium length brown hair that framed her face with random strands fluttering on the wind in various ways. Sliding one hand through the thinkness, she headed toward the the Police Station, up the stairs, and through the doors.  
Gliding past the chaos of phones, beepers, computer screens and general commontion that accompanies any law inforcement establishment, she came to a little room at the corner of the of the station.

Danny Woo sat behind a desk, with files of paperwork off the the side.  
His dark hair was tied back, and he sported a casual black shirt. A smirk lay accross his face as he handed a cup of coffee off to Sara as she entered.

"Hey Pez. Man, what happened to you? Looks like you got beat up with a stick."

Danny was one of a kind. A great partner, a great friend, and had terrfic sense of making someone feeling less then well even worse. Though he knows Sara, and knows she will only come back with something to match him.

"You have no idea..."

Sara took a swig of the java and let it slide down her throat with ease. Returning the cup back to him, she took a seat and casually flipped open one of the files that had been situated on the desk.

"Besides, I think getting hit with a rather large stick would be more inviting then imagining things that arnt there and and loosing good sleep." Sara trailed, and glanced up from the papers to see Danny staring at her strangely.

"You know, they got meds for that stuff," he reported informatively.

"I'm sure they do.." Sara sarcastically muttered.

Danny shot one more look of strange concern for Sara. She had the knack for being the most inward and private person. Even to him, with whom she is mighty expressive on many levels. So he took an interest in the file she had been glancing over to create a diversion as well as a new subject matter.

"I finished the paperwork up for the MicroWave Cases. Looks like a courtdate will be set sometime in January."

Sara nodded recalling the case, as well as the paperwork. As she returned the paper to the folder, a random officer popped his head gaining the attention of the two detectives.

"Call on line 3," He reported and then vanished as quickly as he came.

Danny picked up the phone, hit the line, and accepted the call. After a few words were exchanged, he returned it back to the reciever.

"Looks like we got something near the shipyards."

Sara rose from her chair, as did Woo.  
On to another case, for a new day.

* * *

Brooklyn Along the East River. Once home to the New York Navy Yard, a haven for the production of Navy Ships durring the American Revoltion and World Wars. It was Dismemmberd by the Navy in 1966 but still serves the ends for more private manufacturing and Commerical activity. Here is where one more unfortunate person has met their end, or adleast settled to meeting their end.

Sara and Danny weaved their way through the primary docks until they came to a little crease of open water. As they approached the crime scene tape, photographers were already busy clicking away.  
From the distance, Sara spotted Victoria Poe, Medical examiner extrodinare in conversation.

Danny and Sara looked at each other, wondering who she could be giving an assessment to, if not to them. They joined the group that happened to be standing not too far from the remains of a human skull. vicky commininced coversation to Luiutenate Dante Bruno who was reaching for a ciggarette from his pocket, and laid a scowling look to Sara and Danny. Eventually he walked off past the three leaving them with quizical eyebrows.

Sara didnt like the man. She couldnt exactly put her finger on what it was, but happily illistrated in her mind, he was one who walked around with a tree trunk stuck up the ass. And that was a mild assessment.  
They watched him as he headed back to the docks, taking swigs of his cancer stick.  
Silence commensed for a second until all attentions were averted towards Vicky.

"So, Vicky, this all we got?"

Vicky coated her hands into her pockets and stirred to explain.

"Well I dont know if it is safe to call this an official homicide, but you'll get the idea after I've explained everything to you. Our human cranium surfaced this morning around 7:58, by a local worker. He is right over there," Vicky pointed off to a seemingly random direction.  
"Now there really has never been certain success to identifying a sex from visual interpretation of a skelitcal structure, but concerning I even have less of that to go on, I've come to the very certain, yet toally unsure conclusion, this is female"  
Vicky stopped, regained her hand from her pocket and leaned over the skull. She posed as if she were about to give a lecture in front of a class.

"See, the frontal bone is more rounded, more vertical. When you take into account the temporal ridge, its Small.  
Mastoid is small, Supraorbital margin is sharp, mandible jaw is small, the Symphysis and mental eminence of mandible is rounded, and the jawbone is at a slant.. of course there is also other factors that point in this direction, but again, I cant be sure until i can take it to the crime lab and conduct some forensic tests on it." She paused to take a breath. She knew most of what she said went completely over their field of expertise, but they didnt seem to mind. They intently paid attention anyhow.

"The interesting thing about this is the teeth. They are salvageable, even aside from the exposure in the water. I am almost 99.95 sure it will give us a clue to possibly identifying this girl, that is of course if we can get a lock on records."

Sara raised one of her infamous eyebrows.

"Is there any assumption as to the date on it?" Danny questioned.

"Hard to tell, consitering the enviorment its been in. Looking at the erosion on the top part of the temporal ridge, it looks like it could have been a few years. But again, just an assumption. Nothing can be certian until tests are conducted. I am mighty interested about this indentation on the right side here though."

Sara looked down upon it, and then back to Vicky. She was waiting to hear how this would tie into being a homicide, aside from the fact it just floated up from the East River, also known as the Mafia's Graveyard.

"See it looks like some force really had to be implied, actually, immense force to pierce and indent the bone. So I am thinking, again, my beautiful constant speculations, that our mystery woman was quite positively experienced severe trauma to the head as the cause of death. With what and Where is complete another story. We should leave that to you guys."

Sara looked around to that seemingly random direction once again for the man who found remain.

"So how long will it be before all the tests results can be in?"

Vicky's black curly hair blew in front of her as another chilling wind passed indicating the start of winter wasnt far off.  
She returned her hands to her jacket, and averted her face into her ebony scarf.

"I can have the results on dental in about an hour. The rest of the results will be in tomorrow."

Danny and Sara made their departure from Vicky and proceeded over to the worker. They questioned him, for what it was worth, had him agree to statements, wrote down points of interest, which didnt amount to much and then slowly made their way back to the car after reviewing with the commanders it was probably unfruitful to shut down the shipyards, consitering the cranium was a few years displaced, and mostly likely the rest of the remains already filtered out into the Altantic through the strong currents that run the East river along that way. And besides, Its the East river, and it was getting bloody cold.

Danny hit the button that unlocked the passengers side as they both climbed in. Danny struck the heat on, and then started the engine. Soon they were on the road, throwing around prositions.

"You know," Danny started, "Maybe she fell and hit her head on the side of a yacht while wanting to take a swim"  
Sara rolled her eyes as his visual representation.

"Of course, because Everyone loves the East River," She threw over her shoulder.

"You know, I would venture to say its probably a unfortunate streetwalker who met a violent end.." Sara trailed at the last, and couldnt help but remember her friend Maria, who was killed in a rather violent way.

Danny picked up on it, and decided to let it play out.  
"Well either way, we will have more of a lead to go on once we get results back. Right now, I think we're pretty much useless detectives..."

Danny slowed the speed and stopped in front of a space that happened to be open. Sara looked around at the shops and question to get a better view just of why they had stopped.  
She spotted two news stands and a starbucks on the far corner. Pretty sure Danny was needing to take care of his Java fix, she punched him in the arm playfully.

"Frappicino time, Woo?"

Danny grinned mischeviously, opened the door, and then turned around to lean back through the window.

"Scenarios always put me in the mood, dont you know?" He laughed lighty.  
"Want anything, Pez?" Sara smiled, and negatively shook her head. She watched as Danny turned around, and headed up to the corner.

Alone once more, Sara took a hand and rubbed her forehead with it. Work was one thing, one perplexing thing.  
Her life was a complete other.  
She glanced over at her arm where the Witchblade has been situated.  
The stone lay dormant, and hadnt made an appearance of brilliance since the morning transpired. Not even any visions came to her while she was at a crime scene, and she found that a bit akeward.  
Could this be a normal case? Not counting that any homicide is normal, but could it actually be understandable to the regular human without any X-Files elements surfacing?

She wasnt sure. It was strange though, a voice would often come into her mind, on which she wasnt familiar, that would tell her it weaves a web...and that things are connected. No placements could be made but a straining voice. Sometimes she would think the woman, older and dying, appeares as lost memories. of another life...But how cloudy everything becomes. Sara was never sure of much. She didnt know for certain.  
The only thing that seemed certain was the amount of thoughts on her mind and the confusions that accompained them.  
So much.

Notthingham. His words to her, his proposal. Granted she would be a liar to her own soul if she didnt admit to finding him remotely intriguing, but all the same, deadly and backwards was the verdict that settled in her mind.  
And hadnt he said they were enemies? She remembered it, so vividly as Ian sat craddling a dying Irons in his arms.  
Irons.

What a hemoroid, she Thought.  
That man was a piece of work. In a soft notion, her thoughts went upon how he definately screwed Nottingham up. With his caring heirs, yet unforgivable personal traits, leaving from one personality to another. That much she was she was sure of. For, in a strange way, she couldnt stop thinking about Ian's struggles and how he reacted afterwards.  
The hit he put on her to only rescue her. A confusing, dangerous person, lost in delusions.

Sara found the last thought ironic, consitering her own sanity. She was one to talk about being lost in Delusions. Counting Delusions, her thoughts ran back to last night. Thinking about the boy in the park, under the tree. How Nottingham defended him, looked upon him. From the recesses of studying human nature, she knew some link had be bestowed upon the two. But what could it have been?  
What?

As Sara continued the parade of thoughts in her head, a slight click on the side of the car caught her attention. Without a moments hesitation, she pulled per pistol from its case, firmly gripping it to her.  
If anyone was stupid enough to try something in broad daylight, especially on a cop, it was their life sentancing. Using the back mirror to scout potential evidence to support her claims, she found nothing. Seeing a break from the rush of oncoming cars, Sara swung the door open, gun still slighty drawn, until she found nothing but a pierce of paper tacted to the cardoor with a piece of tape.

Seeing Danny returning from the corner, she slipped the note into her jacket, and returned to the passegers side.  
There was no doubt who it was from.  
The writing was exquisite and well formed.

It held a simple message.

"Same Place, last night. 12:30."

Sara puzzled over the note, debated whether she would go, and realized her curiousity got the best of her and that she'd be there.

Danny found his way back to the car, with eyes firmly fixed upon Sara. She was definately acting wierd, but he wouldnt mention anything, not now. He entered the drivers side, and started the ingnition passing idle conversation about the morning line that took him longer then usual to retrieve his goods.

Sara listened, but her mind fluttered out the window, trying to maybe catch any sight of Nottingham.  
Of course nothing came.  
He was practically invisible, afterall.


	3. Chapter 3

Immergence Pt. III 

"Looks like I've got something for you guys," Jake Macarthy announced to Sara and Danny who stood on with a resound air encompassing them.

Sara's arms were crossed on her chest, leaning her weight on one side of the desk intent on what Jake was able to surface whereas Danny casted a suspicious gaze over him.  
Jake took special interest in how Danny examined him like a hawk knowing he didnt trust him in the least.  
Being a willing transplant originally from the San Diego Police Force to work Homicide in New York seemed a hard pill to swallow. And In a logical way, he understood the feelings being projected toward him on behalf of Daniel Woo. After all it was Danny himself that admited his paranoia on Jake because he was a cop. Either way, With great countenance,Jake still was determined to stand on his own. Like the questions that never seem to have an answer, Jake wasnt offering a solution. In time, they would understand him, but as of the present, it was best to combat fire with water. He ignored the stares.

"I did a search on all dental records of missing persons in the last 10 years in the United States and no matches came up But, using my better judgment, I widened the scan overseas, and if we didnt hit the nail on the head." Jake paused to send a look Danny's way, challenging him to find fault the the scratch that he just presented.

"Victim's name was Victoria Kent. According to the missing person's report filed by Scotland Yard in 97.."

Sara cut him off abruptly. "Wait, Jake, Scotland Yard?"

Danny roused speech once again."Yeah, Sara, you know, British Police?"

Sara rolled her eyes. "Yes, Danny. I know, but Scotland Yard. In 97?" That's 10 years ago."

Danny scowled minutely. "A year off on your search Mccarthy and you wouldnt have surfaced this. Great intuition."

Jake rubbed a hand through his spiked blonde locks, took it in stride with a deep breath and continued.

"Consitering searches are grouped at best in incriments of 5 years, I took into account Vicky's assessment of the cranium's deceased date being adleast more then several years and as it would have it, my better judgement served me royaly." Jake consitered himself to be the good ole pasifist, aided by standing with agression's cain.

"But that's neither here nor there, is it?"

It seemed for the moment it shut Danny up. He just stared on waiting for McCarthy to get to the bulk of his information.  
He knew all to well this war would be continued at a later, more appropriate date.

Sara had seen the two go at it like this multiple times, and often casted her own suspicions over Jake, but never let them get the best of her. As the mystery stands to her, something always told her to trust Jake. She wasnt sure why, but it felt like too much of a chore to go against her initial judgment. As time would have it in the present, she secretly applauded Jake's resolve and character that was displayed seconds earlier. Training in New York was building McCarthy a more pronouced backbone.

Jake took a few clicks his mouse, and the nearby printer came alive.

"Victoria Kent was reported missing to Scotland Yard by her mother in 97. Formerly was known to have been living on the outskirts of London with her Son. After a period of 6 months were no contact or word was made, Scotland Yard had assignned the case to Detectives Emma Chaplain and Marion Mc'Dougal. It was investigated for almost 2 years with minimal reports or leads and eventually was filed away as unsolved. Remains have never been found."

Sara reached over and recieved the paper that had just finished printing. Taken aback the image she saw, she let out a gasp, that went notticed by both Danny and Jake.  
Her bracelet started a dim glow. Notticing it, she shoved it higher upon her arm and pulled her jacket sleeve over it.  
Images started to come to her.

_You Know Who Sara.  
You Know Who._

Sara blinked a few times, and examined the picture once more. A necklace with a crest on it was being warn.  
She rallied hard to bring her vision back to the Jake and Danny who were more then intrigued by her expressions.

"What is it, Pez?" Danny probed.

Sara remained quiet for a few seconds letting the visions flash in her mind. Sara rubbed her temple and looked then up to both of their inquizitive faces.  
She could tell they wanted an explaination.  
As it stood, she wanted one too.  
she glanced down at her watch. 11:20.

"Um, nothing." She stumbled.

"Jake, if you can, Try to establish connection with Scotland Yard and update them on the situation. If you can get ahold of any more information including bio, work history, involvements, relationships,that would be great. If at all possible, try to link up communication with those British Detectives, give them my personal cell. I've got something need to check up on."  
Folding the picture and placing it in her pocket, Sara reached for her shaw hanging on the coatholder and speedily walked toward the door.  
Waiting till she moved out of the office and into the hallway, Danny followed her and grabbed her arm.  
Sara swung around as she raised her emerald eyes on him.

"What is going on Sara?" He demanded.  
"You've been acting weird all morning. I want an explaination. What sparked you back there?"

Sara lowered her eyes in an attempt to bring the playing field to level ground.  
"I just got a hunch on something. I need to check it out."

"And that would include informing your PARTNER on what that hunch is, right Sara."  
Sara wiggled her way from his grasp and tried to calm him with words.

"Of course, and I will let you in. But you've just got to trust me, for now."

Danny wasnt feeling it. Everything was off to him. He shook his head. But Sara was already halfway down the hallway, and with her distance probably matching his concerns with them.

* * *

Sara stood outside a door that read She banged on it a few times, hearing the nostaligic music of _Crosby, Stills Nash and Young's_ _Ohio_ being echoed from the ramparts within. With a few yells headed in the general direction from inside, a boy standing mid twenties with a dark brown tresses to his shoulders opened it.

"Police Knock, Pez. I knew it was you from a mile away."

Sara manuevered her way through the door, past him with a sharp look, leaving him in the corner to his own pleasantries.

"Well..." he announced in a sarcastic tone closing the door behind him and following suit behind her.

Sara spun around taking the room in and looking to meet his eyes. "Revving up for a Protest Boweman?" Sara tossed in the air in reference to the music choice.

"Always. Its why Im here after all..." Gabriel joked.  
Sara nodded approvingly.

"So what's up Pez?"

After the brief exposure to knowing Sara only little more then a month, he's come to know the power she's attributed to having, and the trials that come along with it. With his buisness that caters towards relics, tailmans, and items of interest to sell, trade and find, he knows the bracelet that rests on Pezzini's arm is priceless. In matchless efforts to help her understand it, they've gained a friendship beyond words. She comes for answers, he knows, but more than that, she comes to check up on him because she cares.  
She took a seat in one of the chairs near his personal computer. Following suit, he took the main chair behind the monitor.

"I need you to look something up for me."

Sara pulled into her pocket and retrieved a piece of paper.She handed it to Gabriel, using her finger as an arrow to point out the crest.

"She's pretty hot," Gabriel teased, which only got a classic Pezzini look spawned his way.

"She was hot," Sara corrected. "Lets just say what remains of her were found this morning."

Gabriel recanted.  
"Sucks... so what's this about? The brand she's wearing on her neck?" He spewwed the educational guess from Sara's finger.

"Yeah. Lets just say this came to me in a vision."

Gabriel examined the crest, while continuing the conversation.  
"Witchblade's been talking to you again I see."

Without taking his eyes off the picture, he reached for a magnifying glass that laid on the table, and proceeded to place it over the paper.

"_Invicta_.." He mumbled.

"_Invicta_..." Sara mimicked.

Gabriel looked up from the magnifying glass and met Sara's green orbs.

"Yeah. _Invicta_." He paused and then continued on.  
"Its the Writing on the bottom of this crest. This is British in Origin. Invicta is a motto of sorts that, when translated means "Undefeated." It has its history tracing back all the way to William the Conqueror. Now, its the adage of sorts for the for County of Kent."

Sara rubbed the back of her neck as she connected the crest to Victoria's Surname.  
Racking her brain to remember anything else from the dream she had a night ago, nothing came to her. The only thing she continued to see was those marveling azure orbs...

"Does Invicta mean anything else? Used for anything else?" Sara petitioned.

"Well yeah," Gabriel started.

"Its almost a brand of sorts. In England, Radio Stations, Football teams, and even a Woman's hocky Team have used the motto. Not too long ago, woman commissioned me to see if I could get a lock on a watch that supposidely belonged to deseased Astronaut by the name of Michael Anderson. It's model was called the Invicta 8926."

"And what was the story behind that?" Sara questioned.

Gabriel tossed a puzzled look.  
"Well Anderson was killed 4 years ago when the Space Shuttle Columbia crashed over Texas. Legend has it that his watch, the Invicta 8926, was found among the debree unscathed and has been in secret circulation since. From the information I gathered from my client, fakes were abundant, but the watch held a marking on it that made it unmistakable."

Sara intently listened upon Gabriel's tale.

"And how would she know that?" She questioned.

Gabriel locked his eyes with Sara's and inhaled a breath.

"Because it was his wife."

Sara's features softened as her mind flashed to a desperate wife trying in vein to cling to anything left from her deceased husband. She almost felt her pain, if not for the moment.  
"Were you able to locate it?"

Gabriel reverted his eyes back to the picture.

"I think a blind faith lived more then the idea of a indestructable watch."

Silence filled the room for a few minutes, until Gabriel finally spoke.

"Listen, I will research this for you a little deeper, and tell you if I come up with anything that has a connection to..." he glanced down at her wrist, "That."

Sara smiled in appreciation and then read the time on her watch.

"Thanks Gabriel, I'll be in touch." With that she maneuverered to the door opened and closed it behind her.

Gabriel watched her go, bolted the lock, then increased the volume on his stereo as _Dont Fear the Reaper_ by _Blue Oyster Cult_ appropriately began to play.

* * *

As Sara exited the gate from Gabriel's domain, she set the hemlet over her head, adjusted her viewfinder, and crunked the ignition to life. She found her bike gliding through intense New York traffic as easy as a geiko gaining access to the king's palace.

Time was 12:23 and she had to admit herself as she was rather curious about anything Nottingham was opted to reveal in relation to the set of events that unfolded the night before, consitering it wasnt pertaining to another declaration of his affections. In the mood that currently found her, she wouldnt take to well to that.

Its enough that she found herself taking whims to meet him at certain times, in certain places, that he prescibed. If her sense of curiosity wasnt so distraught, she would have dismissed the entire notion. But knowing Nottingham was connected to her, even though it highly wasnt her choice he was, left her knowing he will most likely be around for the long haul; mysteriously appearing at random to impart cryptic dribbles of information related to understanding the greater picture of the Witchblade, and without a trace, just vanishing into thin air. A while ago, that would have scared her, but now, its just another peg in a hole to completing the game, and finding a normal rhythm.

The Witchblade brought a whole different whirl to her exitance accompanied by a set of colourful characters, she knew. Its just one of those circumstances she has to adapt to. Reaching the entrance to Central Park, she parked, shut her bike off, removed her helmet and started her descent inside.

The sun was shining, and families were abounding on their sunday afternoon leisure.  
The leaves were turning amazing colours, falling rapidly to the ground as a girl picked up a pile and threw it into the air with a carefree toss. They fluttered the sky, catching glimpses of sunshine to sparkle them brilliant reds, golden browns and yellows.  
Sara Stopped, looking on, thinking of a time when she would come with her father, almost mimicking the exact act.

Bringing her mind back to focus, she stared upon a golden haired baby that was being craddled in his mothers arms. Seconds later, the sound that initiated from her phone pulled her away from her carefree thoughts, and back into a reality.  
She pulled it from the casing that connected to her belt, and brought it to her hear.

The voice that inciated from the other side spoke in a soft feminine British monotone.

"I've got information for you, Detective. But you musnt call me back from this line, its tapped. I'll meet you halfway on the edge of Invicta half past the 24th hour."

Sara perplexed started a parade of questions.

"Invicta? Who is this?" She demanded.

"Someone who is going to help you...please, Invicta, 12:30."

"But what's the Invicta? What?" Before Sara could continue, a dead dial tone only answered her.

Sara dialed quickly upon the phone, retrieving the number. Making a few calls to the office, she got through to Danny who placed the number through to a local payphone nearing 72nd Street and Central Park West. Thanking him for the information and telling him she would be back at the office soon, he recanted, wanting to understand what all of the above was about.

"If you come here, have some answers." He threated.  
Sara approached the spot that Ian had commissioned and seeing no sign of him, finished up the conversation.

"I will Danny. I just really wish you could trust me. I'll see you soon." With that, she ended the call, and returned the the phone back to its casing girded at her hip.

Lingering around the tree, she waited a few minutes, until she felt a tap on her shoulder. Spinning around to meet him, she stopped in her tracks at the vison that stood before her. There stood Nottingham in a muchly glorified state.  
He was delicately dressed in a Asian button up shirt that came right at the base of his neck, and formal black pants. His ebony tresses were combed straight down to middle of his back with a few strands whisping over his face courtesy of the wind. He was was cleanly shaven. gone the beard and other distinguishing facial hair she had grown used to. And in a momentary though, she came to the conclusion she liked it much better. He was, in one word, and one word she'd rather not use, especially pertaining to him, Beautiful. Reviving her senses to call on other tasks at hand, she masked her thoughts.

"What is it, Nottingham?" She announced in a buisness tone, making contact with his eyes. Those mysterious grey eyes...

Ian locked her gaze, matching her determination while fading in the moment for time before he spoke.

"I didnt appreciate that manifestion from last night," he announced with authority.

Sara rolled her eyes.  
"Excuse me? You think I go around implanting manifestions?" Her voice was laced with sarcasm.

"I dont, Sara. But what was that about last night?" Notthingham took a more serious and personal gaze then opposed to just his serious stance that broke his normal features.

"I dont know, Nottingham. I was hoping that's why you asked me here. To shed some light on exactly who that boy was last night. I know you have a connection with him. What is it?"

Ian's eyes tread to the ground as his dark lashes fluttered over them.  
Sara stared at him for a long while, studying his body language. He remained still, unmoving, until he finally looked up into Sara once more. As they meshed their visions into one, Sara stared deeper into those Greys orbs of his. In a connection of unparalled conincidence, she read so many emotions in them that she'd never seen before.  
Vulerability,Melancholy, Apathy.  
Sara's mind began to flash a she continued the intense examination until, in place of Ian, the boy became visible.

At that time, her bracelet began to glow, and visions began to engulf her...

_A lounge came into view through the dark clouds. Soft music began played in the background.  
A young man sat at the bar, drink in hand, when a woman, dressed in a black satin dress approached him. Her hair was in bountiful ebony curls, and astounding deep sea green eyes framed the middle of her face.  
She longingly sat at the barstool next to him._

_**I'm leaving in the morning for Japan, I dont know if I will return from my mission...**_

_She inched closer, putting a hand over his._

**_"You Will...Invicta, Ian, never surrender..._**

_Flashes between blackness came of clothes being shed, passionate spells of kissing, Heavy breathing, and arching bodies in sweat.  
When the morning approached, He longingly looked behind at her, and left..._

Sara faded back from her vision, at Ian staring upon her. She blinked ardorously a few times to find a place in her mind for what she just saw.

"That... that was... your... son."  
She barely could formulate the words.

Ian's expressions laid wounded, as they had did previously the night before. In an attempt to fathom the information, and regain her composure, she turned turned around and raised a hand to her face to conceal her. After a few seconds delegating ,she found the resolve to once again continue the conversation, and turned to face him.  
But that was only another synopsis on her plans that never would occur.  
Nottingham was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

Immergence IV 

Sara stood admist the trees, alone.  
The birds chirped within them, the wind blew.  
The jubliant sound of children filled the air as games were enjoyed.  
Yet, Sara stood, still and miles away from the quaint scene.  
Alone.

She stared on to the space in front of her which lay vancant.  
Thoughts and words still streaming in her mind. A wounded look that laid in Nottingham's eyes.  
A Revelation had been bestowed upon her. And now here she stands realing to take it in, Alone.  
Struggling to regain her thoughts, her mobile rung once again. Sara slowly made contact with the casing and pulled it mechanically to her ear.

She delayed in her greeting.  
"Pez," She relucantly uttered.

"Hey Pez, its Jake. I got some information about our girl. I thought you might like to take a look at it."

Sara snapped out of her trance, raising a hand racking it through her loose strands.

"Right..." She trailed.

"Jake, different approach. You mentioned she had a son. Get up information on that."

Sara could translate the silence over the reciever on Jake's part to confusion. But if anything was known about Pezzini's intuition, it usually was spot on and Jake knew that. His clear voice was once again heard over the transmission sounded that was notion.

"Will Do."

"See you soon"  
With that, Sara ended the call.

Regaining herself, she silenced the mutlitude of thoughts that screamed for intantaneous answers that played her mind. As she slowly slid her glasses down over her face, she covertly maneuvered her way from the jungle of the park to her parked bike. Finding it, she slide her glasses over, and placed her helmet on and took off without delay.

With intuition and hunches nipping at her insides, she shot by 72nd and Central Park West, the location from which she recieved the estranged call.  
Sara parked her bike on the opposite side of the street, and looked through her helmet visor to a payphone on the corner. The street was busy with a mingle of tourists and Yorkers, nothing out of the ordinary. Staring on harder, she could hear a hissing inside her head, and then proceeded to glance down to her wrist. The Witchblade began to glow instaneously, marvelous, and illuminous.  
Sara again focused her vison across the street...

_Clouded admist people, a cloaked figure approached the phone, face concealed. Wearing a set of black leather gloves, she slipped change into the machine and begain to dial a number from a torn piece paper she dug out of the bottom of her dark trenchcoat._

_Phone rung, a connection was made.._

_**I've got information for you, Detective... please Invicta, 12:30...**_

_Hanging the phone up speedily, she spun around into the crowd, and vanished from human sight._

_Flashes began to show, and soon two males appeared adorned in Brooks Brothers suits accompanied by Ralph Lauren-esue shades. They covertly made twists and turns intensly examining the strip corner to corner. Unable to find anything of interest , they scouted one last time before entering a black Sedan and taking off..._

Sara faded back from the vision, and intently looked at the corner once again. Catching sight the same Sedan parked further down the street, Sara watched keenly on one of the men to exit, and another that approached from a nearby corner. Focusing upon the man coming up from the car, she could see his thin grey hair rotating around a bald spot, mannorisms noblelike as he locked hands with the a joining man, to whisper something into his ear.

The thought was inconceievable to her.  
The profile, the look. All so familiar. She cringed at the mere thought, but took a deep gulp and fixedly made out the words forming the liscence plate.  
She could have gone into caridac arrest.

Irons1.

Sara let out an audible gasp,knowing the prospect wasnt able, wasnt assured, wasnt an option.  
Everything that stood before her was nothing more then an annex to the witchblade's visions. She became sick to her stomach.  
Averting her eyes away from the scene, she looked straigt in front of her, revved her engine, and stood ready desert all she was shown in the past five minutes. Before she could, inside herself, she briefly glanced back toward the corner where the Sedan was parked.

What issued forth could have come as a relief, but haunted her all the same.  
A streetcorner with no Sedan, no men. No Conversations.  
A street corner with no Irons.

Sara breathed heavily within her helmet, and decamped the scene.

* * *

_**Sara, you really didnt think I was that easily gone, did you?**_

The voice was condescending in her mind, sharp and mingled with a vague British accent.  
Sara eased through traffic as she doubted her sanity and the voices in her mind that she was going to answer.

"I dont know Irons. You did shove yourself into a blade crushing your bloody throat and thus ending your pitiful existance. So, curiousities aside, I would think that could have finished you off in stride."

Sara was soon recovering from her ailing stomach to realizing Irons memory was playing an evil prank on her.

_**Well, when you put it that way my dear, I guess I can definately see your point.**_

Sara stopped at a redlight as she put both feet to the pavement.

"What do you want, Irons?"

With the question being asked aloud, she Blessed the concealment of her helmet, the hum of the city traffic, and other factors that detracted from the notion she was talking to herself. As the light crisply turned green once again,she inched her feet back the footing of her bike. She waited for the response that would only be issued inside her head.

_**Just to finish everything I started. Dont dismiss to quickly what you saw. For visions sometimes are only extensions of realities. We'll be in touch, Sara...**_

Sara could have rolled her eyes, but chose not to. Reaching the parking lot of her Pescient, she once again found a space, situated her transportation and removed her helmet.

"Im sure you will..." she uttered deep in her throat with a growl.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Immergence V**_

* * *

The web that tangles mystery, power and ambition has always found its way like a trinity force; equal, ominpresent, and bound together since the begining of time to individuals who longed for it. Most have sinsiterly began from corruption but disguised themselves under a facade of good, or in some cases, the other way around. Either way, the origins become a forgotten matter and greatness becomes the immortal factor.  
Remembrance. These elements have built the best of Kingdoms and the worst of Empires.

At the genesis of civilization, Nimrod found his ambition in opposition to God. In display of an independent spirit, he rejected everything the creator had done for him, in preserving his grandfather Noah, and sustaining life once again to the planet after the mighty global flood wiped out an ancient world.  
The remembrance of such a God must be forgotten, the truth, the origin. In turn, people should remember him, the rebel, the great king, the establisher of civilisation.  
It will be his remembrance. His immortality.

So he built a tower that was to stretch the heavens, using the convienence of a world-unifed language. A new people, a new religion, a new God.  
Even though the force of God, order, and guinuine angelous diverted the plans, the remembrance stayed. Over a 1000 years later the great city of Babylon became a mighty world empire with the remains of that tower as the center of its foundation.  
Even Ezekial, a Prophet of God, saw his fellow people weeping for Tammuz, an avatar that had its basis on Nimrod. Others have been in the form of the chief God Merodach, Baal, and countless others deities. People were known to let their children pass through the fire for a simple blessing from this one. On such a blind faith. What a remembrance, a tribute, to a mighty hunter in opposition to the creator of the universe.

Mankind's history since has followed his model, perfecting the art of corruption, power, ambition and mystery.  
Governments, corperations, entities, Monopolies.  
Instead of sacrificing one's children to Gods of metal and Stone, they sacrifice their freedoms to the advancment of confinement and fear. Instead of realizing the power in a simple thought, they rely on others to think it for them. They worship a cross because they are told to, worry, hate, kill, and defend something because they programmed to.

Kenneth Irons was a man who saw the world in this way, and ruled it pretty much the same. His name was featured in a plethora of new articles, magazines, and other media outlets. His facade in the world clinged to the idea of how he wanted to be remembered. A gentlemen of endless means who looked past himself in the pursuit to help others. Discovering new Technology that helped mankind with communication, and defense for the protection of nationsq. Science that allowed the cure for AIDS, Cancer, and other killer diseases to be found. Someone who supplied food and temporary housing to refugees.  
A kind and gentle saint.  
A Man of deep compassion.

But deep inside his operations, it was his genetic research made the militia's insane, go into lands and kill everyone and leave thousands as refugees. Channeling money into rogue goverments to help support the drug trade, has added to people's ailments and problems instead of helping them. He controled such elements with a two-edged sword. But even though has managed that within his life, in his death, he is determined to keep it the same.  
At any cost, nesessary.  
Without a problem, the solution doesnt matter.  
And who needs a solution, when the problem can be avoided?  
Its a balance that transcends the human race, and always will until God decides to step in once again and take final action.  
But as time spirals forward, he still wants what he cannot have...

_**The one is coming.  
Is looking for you and in time, will find you. The plans of this one are to undo all We've worked to establish. Unlacing the operation, ready to reduce its memory to ashes...**_

_**This one also has a conquest to also kill the one you lust for.  
Oh the one you would choose over me. Did choose over me.  
You know well what you should have done yet here I lie, only in visions,dreams.  
But you possess everything Ive worked my life to collect and build up.  
What will you do?  
War walks alongside peace.  
Isaiah spoke of such a time, a place.  
"They will have to beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into prunning hooks. Nations will not rise up against one another, Neither will they learn war anymore..."**_

Ian sat by the fire cleaning one of his blades. Indeed he was the new CEO of Vorschlag Corperations since the death of Irons. And it was held it in his hands to continue the legacy his _father_ built from the ground up. But unlike Irons, Nottingham never cared for big buisness or immortality. He just served the ends.

He found his way to his feet and watched the fire lick the logs, smoke ascending through the chimney in a cloud of black mass. He finished with removing the final impurities off of metal, and then proceeded to take multiple expertise swings slashing at the air, before laying it at his feet, bowing his head, and returning it to its sheath.

"I once longed to help find a peace. But it cant be done through the eyes of violence or this world. The one that comes will be much needed, and welcomed."

Nottingham's voice was calm and directed as if he were relating a conversation to a visible Irons. Though his physical wasnt manifested, his presence was invading.

_**But remembrance. Everything worked for. You cannot let it be reduced to Nothing. You know it well, Ian...**_

Ian gazingly looked into the flames, the brilliance shining off onto his his orbs and creating auburn highlights to his ebony tresses.

"I never cared about remembrance or immortality as you. Existing was a chore enough.  
Yes, peace will come. And So will the truth."

* * *

_Police Headquarters_

"So get this, from information I pulled on our girl, she was born an orphan. Raised in the household of Eric Thomas, a British politician who later rulled with Prime Minister Sir John Major in his cabinet. From records, her Father was killed when she was young, mother was diagnosed a paranoid-schizophrenic, and eventually died while in a mental ward."

"Thats interesting, how did the father pass?" Danny inquired.

"Apparently of over-excitement." Jake paused then continued, "He had a poor health record, three blocked arteries causing a heartattack while in the middle of exta-caricular nocturnal diversions."

Sara smirked, "What a way to go. Beats being on your knees and praying for your life."

"Depends what he was into. Pez," Danny sarcastically tossed over his shoulder.  
Soon the diverse comments ceased, and Jake moved on with information at hand.

"The mother, aparently deaded her existance by asphixiation, wrapping sheets around her neck. She had bad delusions and intense paranoia. Soon after Victoria was born it was said she tried shake her to death."

"So much for a mother's touch," Danny mumbled audibly.

"Yeah, no kidding. So she never knew her parents, which leads us to the first faultline in this investigation. I have a feeling it might be a long one. Unless a stepmother was the one who reported her. "

"Doubt it, Thomas wife divorced him on grounds of infedelity. She even confessed to the idea he had raped Victoria when she was younger, and hated her for it. Every twist and turn of this story gets better and more confusing. Check this out," Jake stopped and adjusted his chair to sit upright as if on the edge of his seat durring a climatic scene of a film.

"Eventually,She becomes involved with an Escort Service under the faction, BabylonGirls about the same time Thomas went into office with Major in 1990. I looked it up to see if it was still in operation, and it is, but was closed down for a period of time right near the Elections. It was busted for involvment in a massive prostitution ring that was uncovered in 1996. Now this specfic service had frequent clientel from British Intelligence including the Ministry of Defense, Defense Intelligence and even MI6 as well as the Royal Armed Forces and Parliment. Apparently, her time with the service was limited when she became pregnant and then gave birth to a son, Named Ethan Sage Kent in 1991. After the birth, she eventually rejoined the service."  
Sara motioned to speak, but before she could finish Jake spoke..

"Which brings me to what you wanted me to look into. The father was said to have been Gavin Redding, a cocky older politician that served time for being involved in prostitution ring."

Sara rolled her eyes. "Bull," she muttered.

Danny lowered an eyebrow as Sara's hunches. "Where any DNA tests taken to prove this theory?"

"No, none needed. Gavin was on the birth cirtificate. Got hell for it, and his wife divorced him, but no contest, his name was in the ink."

"Bull, Jake. As 10 minutes to the Hudson not counting traffic and on my cool bike, is my witness, I bet you he has nothing to do with her."

"Pez, the guy was documented to have impregnated nearly 30 woman between 1989-1994. His affairs, from his own unglorified testimonies reported he couldnt even recall the number of his sexual activities he has been engaged in."

"A Slimball pee-pee man who cant keep it in his pants, yes. The father of our Victim's son, no."

"You know, sometimes I think you have a big crystal you look into and it shows you everything needed for proving your point. Now if thats the case, indeed I wouldnt need to be here as you partner, giving my 10 years plus of experience and skills to the fore when I see a connection between two points. But if its not then I dont know where you come off doubting a claim as this, because, quite frankly, but out of anything that makes sense in this entire investigation so far, this is it."

Sara would have laughed and gladly shown him her "Crystal" that gave her such gifts alongside the revelation she was just granted not even an hour ago about who really fathered this boy, but she recanted the thought. Instead,she calmed her disposition, recalling Danny's annoyance directed towards her from the whole morning, and then evenly spoke.

"Come on Danny. The guy's a perfect scapegoat for providing the sperm to another existance. And of course he wouldnt deny it. As far as he's concerned, what's another bastard to him? This course is just too convinenant. Probably jubiliant he's spreading his seed around the countryside."

Jake finally piped in after the exchange between the two, and sat back once again in his chair.

"You might want to listen to the rest of the info I dug up before you start passing judgements on Pez there. I think her third eye is serving her well."

With that, he made a few clicks onto the screen, and the printer began to stir.

"Sage Ethan Kent was born in 1991 in Canterbury, England. But according to vital records, non exist. Medical records are clean as well. Everything I've tried to find on him within the system is clear. So your probably wondering how we know he was even born, much less with Redding being the biological entity. The only information that could be pulled to prove his existance was from that birth cirtificate, which, mind you, is a copy given to Scotland Yard accompanied by a Picture in the debriefed report. Without that, there would be no indication Victoria even fathered a son."

Sara passed a puzzled look off in Danny's direction. "Looks like someone is going through alot of trouble to remove his life from the parchment."

"I think its no trouble, consitering nothing is within the system. Unless he went under a government protectionlike program, had a name change, but why all the trouble for a 6 year old kid right? Either way,it gets better." Jake enthusiastically announced.

"Due to the information I just covered, the investigation launched for Victoria was never officially made into one for Sage. Which, in my speculation, probably explains the copy of the birth cirtifcate to Scotland Yard. Better yet, after the Investigation was debunked 2 years into it, with no information, no leads or evidence, it was tossed away in a cold case file. Sage's copy of his birth cirtificate was noted to have been a falacy.  
As to the two detectives who where assigned the case, convienantly are indisposed. Marion Mc'Dougal was killed in a Skiing accident while home on holiday in Scotland December of 99. Not too long after that, Emma Chapalian left the Yard and relocated to France. Efforts to establish a link with her have prooved useless so far."

Danny and Sara looked at each other.

"So no Evidence, no investigation, no witnesses, no detectives." Sara Skeptically announced.  
"A lousy coverup. Its what's for Lunch."

"This sounds like a case for the Feds. Until Vickie get's back with the offical results on the skull we pulled, we have no basis for taking this in homicide. And quite frankly, Im in no mood for busting up the governments Twlight Zone."

"Whats the matter Woo? No spunk? Quite frankly, Im intrigued with what our rogue Brits were up to." Sara replied pulling the xerox copy of the birth cirtificate from the printer. She thought of Nottingham right away and knew soon enough they would have another encounter, quite possibly longer then 5 minutes minus him disspearing into thin air or bolting. Yes, a long pow-wow of tell the truth.  
Well, she could rephrase that. Nottingham never has lied to her as she can recall, but in his own way, he tends to have the nasty habit ofleaving out out important nuggets of vital knowledge or incrypting them behind conundrums galore.

She took a few glances, and then folded it, placing it into her pocket. Feeling for room, she ran into another folded parchment, and realized it was the picture from earlier that morning. She rubbed the back of her head, and started to stare off for a few minutes once again about the phone call she recieved. Invicta. Meet her at Invicta.  
12:30. What's with 12:30 anyway? She thought.  
After a few minutes in deep thought, she returned to the sound of Danny's ending question.

"...any local leads we can follow up on. As to why she might have relocated to New York?"

Jake gave a blank look. "Trail goes cold. Nothing else besides what I dug up, and believe me, digging this up was a chore."

"You mean, things accessible," Sara corrected.

She decided to egg on the war of connections once again, having the feeling Jake led on more information then what could have readily been avaliable to the average cop. Jake eyed Sara's intent, and found mystery between her green eyes.  
It was no suprise to him though, he usually picked up that trait frequently, especially when she was in a mood.

"Must be in really deep," Danny replied inquizically.

Jake led on an air of calm.

"Theres always more then what's known."

Danny returned a dramatic look reaching for his coat.  
"Im starving, and I need some coffee"  
He tossed a glare at Sara as she rolled her eyes at his coffee announcment. The man was a java-head. Even though her current look spoke amusement, his eyes reminded her that she had a promise she still needed to keep of making sense out of all her weirdness from the morning.  
That should be interesting, but she decided she would impart something he could understand. Besides, he could be a hell of a partner when he was cranky, so without any further thought, she zipped up her jacket and followed him out of the Police Station, and to the nearest diner.

They were seated, orders were taken, and questions were posted.

"So what have you got for me, Pez?" Danny had a look of worry intermingled with annoyance laced over his face.

"I dont know. This case is getting to me"  
Sara stopped and strugged with the idea to mention anything more. She knew from this gaze that it wasnt sating his curiosity. She I got a strange call this afternoon from someone who apparently knows and has information. Now, I dont know who it is or if i will see them again, since she didnt tell me anything. It was all very fast."

"Pez, Im not feeling this case. Its off and beyond the realms of what we do. Were cops. We solve murders, not coverups. And quite frankly, I know there's more to what your telling me."

Sara finished up a sip of her tea, and lowered her eyes at Danny staring on.

"Look Danny. I dont know why or how this person got in contact with me, and quite frankly, if any future links are made Im not riding solo on this. I just need you to understand that much."

Danny's look softened.

"Okay Pez, Dont need you going Kamakazi on me. I know more is going on, but I'll settle for this"  
He eyed her her plate from a distance.

"You going to eat your pickles?"

Sara raised an eyebrow accompanied by a slight smile.

"Have at it." Danny plucked them over to his tableware, and started eating.

Sara took another sip of her tea raising the cup to her mouth, and over the rim, she peered out to the scene beyond the glass window settling her eyes on a endarkened figure staring seemingly, if not at her, completely through her. She couldnt make out any features, eye contact, or distinguishing marks but immediately identified it from the visions courtesy of the Witchblade. She raised a leather glove to the window, her black hood concealing her face, with only a full set of lips displayed and shook her head negatively. Sara struggled to keep a facade of calm consitering the conversation piece of five minutes ago established with Danny and fixedly looked at her plate in front of her. Taking a moments, she took afew bites of her sandwich, and then unwillingly snapped her gaze back to the window once again trying to take another look, but was greeted with an empty vision.


	6. Chapter 6

I will be on Vacation for the next week, so this is the last installment I will be issuing until my return! Enjoy!

* * *

**_Immergence VI_**

****

"So what do you got for me?"

Sara stood admist a glass case housing an urn. She tapped on the glass with her finger, testing the quality of the sound to pass the time. Gabriel was working on the monitor then spun to answer her question, but stopped short of Sara's bewildered actions. As Sara's eyes turned to meet his, he regained focus and took a deep breath to impart the facts he gathered.

"Well, Besides naming every single sports team and radio station that has adapted the motto, I decided to look a little deeper into the origin. The term first is seen durring Pagan Roman Times, with Sol Invicta, meaning the unconquered sun. Festivals were held in honour of the sun, as found reacurring and with striking similiarites of almost all ancient Polythesitic cultures. Before then, nothing shows.

Now Concerning the history of Kent, the term was adapted after William the Conqueror takes another route to London on his seige to bring England under his fold. Legend has it that the residents of Kent rose up and defended their city thus scaring him on another path. Of course the real reason why he pursued a different course was because he was unable to bring the cinque port of Dover under his influence. William pretty much used this port to transfer his troops from Normandy to England, and with resistance at this crutial link would have proved devestating to his campain. So they agreed on a Conditional Surrender, with Dover choosing their wiles.

Because of this, Kent was pretty much self-governed while only pledging a verbal oath to William.  
It was pretty unique being so close to the nucleus of the government, that this section had the same freedoms and liberties of Wales and Scotland who were bitter enemies of the Normans.In later times, this region rallied under its "Undefeated" banner when throughtout the Middle Ages, revolts sprung up.

You have the Peasant Revolt of 1381 denouncing serfdom, or bascially the prejiduce of judging a person's life by their birthright.  
Then there was Jack Cades Rebellion of 1450 were the peasants wrote up a manifesto that mentioned every single woe they found the government to have under Henry IV.. The modern form of equilty, rights, and Reform issues.  
And then of course, there is Wyatt's 1553 rebellion against Queen Mary who is bent on Restoring the Catholic Church, but Protestants wernt having it. The fight for religious freedom begins."

Gabriel stopped as he caught Sara's attention lingering towards different relics within his shop. Her deliberation posed much shortsightedness, and loss of focus.

"Sara?" Gabriel petitioned in kind worry.

She spun around, eyes glazed over.

"Yeah," she trailed for minute using the nearby table to lean upon. "Sorry Gabriel, feels like I just attacked with Sandman's dust."

She rotated her eyes, closing them for a few minutes, rubbing her arm over her face, and then took a seat in one of the nearby chairs. She glanced down at her watch as it read 11:20 and with a solemn realization the night wasnt nearly over yet, she ripped some type of focus from the fabric of nowhere and returned to the concerned eyes of Gabriel.

"You Got any Coffee?"

Gabriel moved to accomidate Sara's request and soon returned with a fresh hot mug of the strong brew.

"You know Sara, Sleep can be a great friend or a horrible enemy. Maybe we can contiue this tommorrow once your up to thinking cleary again."

A gentle curved formed on both sides of her mouth as she took a sip of the liquid. It went down with ease.

"Mmmm... all I need is a little more of this and I'll be fine," she muttered between another quaff.

Gabriel gave a serious look towards her.

"Seriously, Sara. I know your probably stressed beyond words. Picking up bodies and chasing the reasons for demise Im sure can wear on you after a while. I just worry about you is all. Your more then welcomed to stay here if your too tired to drive home."

Sara felt the warm fluid taking hold with its stimulants regaining her strength once again. Coupled with the sincere offer just posed to her also helped awaken her mind.

"Thank you, Gabriel, but I am fine but I just might take you up on that offer in the future."  
There was a pause of silence that remained as Gabriel longingly looked at her. Feeling the mixed emotions that permeated the air, she quickly diverted the conversation back to the topic at hand.

"So... Kent is filled with uprisings of a social conscience," She reported.

Gabriel was hesitant, not wanting the moment of serene silence to end between them, but posed a response to her anyhow.  
"So it would seem. Sadly, I couldnt link any of this to your Witchblade. Around this time, Joan of Arc was the weilder, especially durring the Hundred Years War."

Sara's thoughts ran like widfire within her mind, trying to piece any evidence from the information gathered.  
"So, basically, Kent was self-governed within the land. Issues of politcal reform were rampant under the undefeated banner of Invicta..." She trailed once again looking back at her clock. 11:40.

"Is there anything here in New York under the banner of Invicta?"  
It was a direct question, but sometimes the direct were the best. Time was running out, and she needed to know what this Invicta was. Consitering the call placed to her earlier that day, she remembered the vision of the woman on the payphone,  
_This line is tapped..._  
And then the men of government status pursuing her.

"Does any government entity go under this banner?"

"Isnt that more up your field of expertise to know besides mine? I mean you are a cop and all."

Sara shamefully reverted her eyes at a paper that had been laying on the table. Catching sight of it, she instinctivly picked it up, and opened it to an article. Just as she started to read, Gabriel saw her bracelet begin to glow its brilliane of Crimson lightning.

Sara was heading into a trance, Gabriel knew, and all because of the Witcbhlade. He watched as she stared deeper into the paper, as if looks from her green orbs could have burned a hole right through it. He'd seen Sara go into this hypnotic state not too long ago, and remembered his reaction. Now that it is happening again, and being one of the few people to really understand more or less what abilities it bestows upon its weilders, he patiently waited as she showed signs of the vision subsiding. Eventually she stared up placing the paper back upon the table, and back to Gabriel.  
He couldnt resist to ask his burning question.

"So... what did you see?"

Sara's focus was fully returned, as she responded.

"Something I should connected a while ago. Listen, I got to go. Thank you so much for everything Gabriel, I'll be in touch."  
At that, Sara pulled her leather jacket from the coatrack, and headed for the door.

"Sara..." Gabriel trailed. Halfway out the door, she turned around.

"Just be careful, okay?"

Sara laid a hand on his.

"I will. Dont worry, I will be in touch."  
And with that, he watched her bolt down the hallway.

Locking the doors behind him, he curiously manuevered his way to the paper that Sara had been mesmerized on.  
Scanning the contents, he found a clip at the bottem left corner, with the headline,  
_**Vorschlag to cut funding on UN Renovation Plans**_

Skimming the article, he ran across a passage he was sure that sparked Sara into her trance.

_Reports follow that the late Kenneth Iron's Vorschlag Industries and Corperations has passed to his son, Ian Nottingham. Since Nottigham has taken hold, funds that were generously given to non-governmental organizations such as Amnesty International, Addameer, and the European Bar for Human Rights Institute, among others, have been stripped. This follows suit now with a sum of 30 million dollars promised to help with the Renovation efforts being cut. Nottingham's intentions as the New CEO are not known, but the UN is leaning towards a sizeable contribution to come from its members and hopes soon building plans will be back on track._

Gabriel stopped there, keeping his comments to himself. He met Nottingham once before the passing of Kenneth Irons, and didnt like him much. Apparently, he was making himself out to be a villian within the world of Big Buisness as well.

"God Sara, What are you getting yourself into?"

* * *

Sara stood a street over from 42nd on the corner adjoining First Avenue West. Lingering within the shadows, she watched the lights that illuminated the _United Nations_ main building. It was a distance away, but still very visible. Security was hardly present, which lay as a shock in her mind.  
Walking a brisk pace up the street, she took another glace at her watch.  
12:28 in Midtown Manhattan.

_On the Edge of Invicta... half past the 24th hour._  
Sara's connectors accompanied by helpful visions finally decided to kick in so she was granted to understand it all.

The UN is an organization based in international territory, although lying under United State's soil. Its advantageous goals of providing and enforcing human rights laws have extended outward to nearly 200 countries as members. Same as the revolts and uprisings within Kent, Sara found an uncanny parallel. In a sense, if the objective nature of this organiztion is defeated, so is humanity as we know it, some would say. In reality, Without realizing, The UN holds the "Invicta" banner.

Sara stopped on a corner, lingering for a few minutes trying to catch any glimpse of this mysterious contact, of who eerily warned her previously that day through a diner glass window, to come alone. Sara was alone enough, but either way came with her modes of protection; Two Pistols laced undeneath her pantleg, and her trusty bracelet that could turn into full armour decorated with a deadly sword if needed and necessary.

The wind blew past, ice cold as she burried her chin into her leather jacket, and her hands into her pocket. Glancing down at her timepiece once again, it reported half past the 24th hour. No signs became present of anyone, and soon Sara began to rethink the UN's territories. She did stand on one side of Invicta, but if another end, such as 48th street was understood, then that could prove to be damaging. Either way, her thought process was broken at the activation of the stone hissing inside her pocket. Sara pulled our her hand to see it glowing its bright red, and scanned the area. In the near distance, she saw a shadow move into an alley ahead, and cautiously followed it.

Wanting to take her pistol out for protection, she restrained, and slowly entered the blackness of the small passageway.  
As predicted, the shadow a woman lougingly settled against the concrete building, one foot balancing the pavement. She opted for the veil of the shadows, and didnt move, even when Sara knew her to be there. Sara vouched for the small crevice of light that poured through the narrow street, and stood, looking on.

"Good Morning Detective."

The greeting was quaint, but the delivery under her deep British accent proved seductive.  
Sara found a loss for words, examining her, and the silence within the air lingered before she broke it.

"I see you've come to understand Invicta after all, for really, when you think about it, it is not so difficult."  
Sara continued to watch on at the unmoving figure.

"Thats one way of putting it. Why did you choose to meet here?"

"Because of its positioning. Dont you see? They shall not set foot here for they are unable to sphere influence under this banner, and quite frankly, hate that prospect."  
Sara could pick up a slight change in her voice, as it roused with passion.

"How did you find me?"

"Avenues detective. There are so many. I found you through an Avenue."

Sara paused with annoyance. The woman didnt bother to move an inch, nor to face her within the light, almost acting as if she wasnt even there. Sara worked past her personal opinion in trying to get a better understanding of anything before her classic temper crept in.

"Whoever is after you.. did they kill Victoria?"

With that statement, movement was finally made as both feet were to the pavement, and her body was standing fully erect. She walked briskly to the edge where the light met the dark, her full lips over her hood being visible. Sara had the unending nerve to pull the entire concealment off so she could get a better look but restrained herself. She spoke again as Sara followed the words through her mouth.

"They are after an endless strength and power. They had the science, the ingredients, but tasted the bitter wormwood of defeat. But failure is nothing more then a goal that needs more attention, so they are coming. And coming fast. Bring them to justice, Pezzini. For the sake of Victoria and others."

With that, the woman averted her gaze down, and pulled out a mini disc from her trenchcoat pocket, and handed it into the lght. Sara recieved the disc from her gloved hand, and found small writing on the disc that she didnt decipher at the present time. Taking it quickly, and putting into her jacket, she found her eyes to be scanning once again.

Sara arched an eyebrow her last statement whirling in her mind.  
"Others, like? Victoria's son? What do you know of him?"

The Woman remained silent, and slipped back into the shadows once more.  
Sara found it puzzling, and unending.

"Who are you?"

With that, she could slowly see her figure becoming smaller as she inched into the darkness. Through the subtle outline of blackness, she felt the wind of her sucession as she fled the alley and turned into another one. Without much thought, Sara began in hot pursuit beyond.

The folds of her coat followed behind her like a sheild of daggers. Her speed was superb, but nothing Sara couldnt match. Finally reaching a dead end, she turned onto another street and Sara pulled out her pistol, and slowly rounded the corner. Glancing furiously, she found nothing, but slowly her ears adjusted to footing above her.  
She eventually caught the tail end of a shadow making way to the roof via the fire escape. Not too long after, another figure joined her, followed by another.

Sara then realized her mysterious contact's stalkers were out for blood. Before she could turn to an adjacent alley to follow them, she was greeted with a man in black running directly towards her. Right before inevitable connection was to be made, she dodged out of the stream, causing him to run into the ground with much force. After a few moments and disorientation setting in, Sara took the advantage to disarm the semi-automatic that he was reaching for.

Aiming her pistol upon him, she watched as he sprung to his feet and with much stealth kicked it out from under her grip with no warning. Preparing for another lunge, Sara wasnt about to give him the welcomed greeting. She was already out of the alley, weaving in and out between various directions. Unending, she finally dodged into a small path as a bullet narrowly ricoched off the concrete at her feet. Feeling the intensity of gunshots, her heart began to pulsate under her layers of clothes faster as she painfully realized the alley she chose was nothing but a potential dead end.

Backing into one of the small corners with the idea to regain herself, still facing forward, her fear intensified as she thrust down to reach for her second pistol, but before she could, a strong hand came up forcefully to her mouth, and other around her torso. Her body was firmly pressed against what felt like a brick wall. This touch was insanely powerful, powerful enough to paralize her from revolting under the visage in fear of the consequence of such an action. Sara stood frigged, locked. As the fear welt up inside her, the grip loosened somewhat as a warm breath was being permeated onto her earlob.

"Shhhhh."

It was almost soothing, and Sara slowly looked up to see none other then Nottingham behind her. In one stride, he released her gently pushing her back to the back recesses of the corner as a unwilling protection. In a forward charge, he unsheathed his sword that had been strapped behind him, and met his adversary with a fierocity a hun warrior might have had.

Hearing the clash of metal and gunshots being issued, Sara found a fire escape, and quickly started her ascension to the top. The sounds of a scuffle ensued as she reached the peak and she decided she would thank Nottingham later for saving her life, but now the pressing issue was to get completely out of dodge.  
Finding her way down another fire escape passed an alley to a the main street, she realized she was only a block away from 42nd where she parked, and with much speed behind her, she raced towards it.

As it became gradually clearer to her, her destination became ensured and she proceeded to hastily put the key into the ignition letting the engine come to glorified life all while placing her helmet on.In a swift thought, she reached inside her jacket feeling for the mini disc, in a security measure, but found empty folds.

She froze, and wanted to panic.  
Her thoughts became a raging sea. Had it fallen out while she was in pursuit?  
Ready to retrace her steps, the sound of distant sirens haulted her.  
There was no telling what Nottingham left behind back in that alley, and as far she knew, this could be her case tomorrow. With much aggitation at getting so far to loose so much, she sped into the night and for home.

* * *

The Stairs were long and winding it seemed before she finally reached the top to her apartment.  
Still on edge, she pulled out her pistol, half expecting to find god knows what in god knows where. Coming to the conclusion she was loosing her mind, her exhaustion slowly started to creep in once again, but she forced herself awake. In reality, she wanted nothing more then to dash into her bed, pull up a multiple number of comforters and fall fast asleep in a cacoon that would guard her from any type of harm.

But dreams were far from her at the moment.  
She turned the key, and a soft pop related the sound of an unlocking.  
She slowly turned the handle, closing the door behind her slowly.

With one hand, her pistol laid raised, and with the other, it reached cafefully for the switch to the lamp.  
A soft click issued, and light bubbled forth.  
Examining the room, she found nothing out of the ordinary. A silence prevailed, and she eased up a litle bit, walking toward her bed. Pushing the light on, she caught sight of a shadow before her window. But she didnt bother to raise her pistol.

Nottingham stood there, and even though she paticuarly wasnt fond of him, it was a more comforting thought then someone else vacating that space at present.  
She looked on him as he carefully walked into the light.  
She waited for him to speak. As it stood, she had much she wanted to talk to him about, but reserves for this day were more then gone.  
He was errect, standing in authority, spoke with it as well.

"Your in Danger, Sara. You cant stay here. You need to come with me."

Well Sara couldnt deny that fact. She was almost killed a matter of 15 minutes ago.

"Look Nottingham, I appreciate your chivalry back there, and.. I owe you my life, but I am not coming with you."

The Look of urgency continued upon his face.

"You need to. Need to leave. Now, with me."

She realized what this was. Nottingham wasnt backing himself into a corner or asking a favour. He was giving a command he expected her to respond to and obey. Well as far it depended upon her, he got the wrong woman to order around this night.

"Like Hell Im coming with you. We can take this, if you want, but I doubt you want to."  
She raised her arm to him in a trying combat, the Witchblade on her wrist coming to life.

His eyes laced his dominence, as he reached inside his pocket and pulled out the mini-disc. Catching sight of it, Sara's eyes locked on the little plastic case, and the Witchblade immediately sheathed itself back to her bracelet.

"What is on that?" Her tone became annoyed.

"Goddamn it, Nottingham, what is going on?"

He put the disc back into his pocket and met her eyes. His grey calculating orbs to her blazing emerald ones.

"You need to leave here. As much as you hate me, dispise me, even resist me, I dont care, Sara. Your in danger, and I will not stand by and do nothing while that reality is present. This disc is yours, and you will see whats on it, but your coming with me first."

Sara rolled her eyes.

"You know, Damn you Nottingham. How am I to know what you really are at all? This is probably a setup. You, Irons, everything about it, is just deception and lies, Its all for this and I think its Damn sick!" She held her arm to the air, revealing the silver bound to her wrist.

"You know, I didnt ask for this. Whatever is going on with this woman and you is none of my business anymore. Im not going anywhere beyond this room, and if you want to me to come with you, your going to have carry me there. And believe me, _Ian, _Its not going to happen."

Sara's tone was indignant, and vile, condenscending and harsh.  
With that She turned her back to him, but without any warning, and in one swift movement, she found herself pinned to the wall, with both arms above her head, being fastened there by just one of his, his knee binding both her legs from movement. Sara breathed heavily back and forth as she once again could feel the chilling power she knew he controlled with uncanny ease.

He was inches from her mouth, looking into her rage filled eyes. In a moment of sheer fear, he could feel the panic within her body. She began to shake unvolentarily, and immediately he loosened his grip to an extent that lessened her worries, but kept her pinned under him.

"Irons was mad, and cunning and goddamn evil. There is so much you dont know, but the last thing I am going to see is another person I love be ripped away from me on account of this goddamn war for power. Sara, please, you've got to trust me, now. I will not harm you, you know that."

His words were spoken with sincerity, she felt, even though she would deny everything. The emotions she just witnessed, and his response of calming hers were almost touching in a strange way she would never understand. Feeling him so close to her, with is power being displayed over her while words of affection are purred easily disarmed her urge to struggle against him. She really had no type of will to fight or function anymore. Her mind began to slip, her will, her very essence being pulled into the realm of complete and utter oblivion.

She closed her eyes, in a feeble attempt to blot out everything set before her. As her mind slowly began to fall deeper and deeper into a spiral of darkness, she began to feel like she was wrapped in that safe guarding cacoon.  
Feeling a hand gently brush the end of her cheek, it brought her slowly back to reality, with her eyes flinching open. It was met with marveling cloudy orbs.  
Slience, prevailed and he could feel her relax within his grip.

"Please," Nottingham entreated.

Without a word spoken, her glazed eyes looked into his once more, and her weight shifted sliding down the wall without warning, but with quick unsensored reflexes, he caught her between his arms.

He carefully shifted her to weight to fit like a glove within his arms, and carried her off returning to the shadows.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Immergence VII**_

* * *

_**Authors Note**: __Sorry about the long hiatus to keep you lot waiting on the seventh installment. To be very truthful, your comment was the one I needed to know I wasn't writing this in vein, and people are enjoying it.  
I'vie also been very busy, but there is much still much to come.  
Enjoy, feel free to comment at will!  
Thank you for your time in reading my work. _

Salaam/Shalom  
Be'Reshit

* * *

Red lights flashed throughout the district near to the UN headquarters as a black haired woman approached the tape.  
Security made its way throughout the gates, followed by police, and a collection of other various individuals.  
Making her way though it, she approached her center of interest were a A young blond that stood in the midst of it all. 

"Hey Vic," Jake Mccarty stated mater-of-factly.

Victoria Poe shook positively in response to his greeting as her eyes wandered to the scene below him.

"Hey, Jake. Looks like a party. Something involving the UN?"

Jake Shook his head. "Not sure, but its not on International Territory, its our side, so were dealing with it. They're just there for precaution. Cant blame them these days."

" Very true." Ah, what do we have here, Fresh..." she expressed as she took in the view of one body now at her feet.  
Putting a pair of gloves on, she bowed, and started her analysis. "Fatal gunshot wound, looks like a .45 ACP through the upper cranium, fired at close range. Subject: Male, Caucasian, Mid-late 40's, guestingmating by the appearance, black styled Armani suit, leather shoes, and defense mechanism"  
She paused seeing a gun not too far from his lifeless corpse, "a 9MM." She shook her head approvingly. Being in such a line of work made for lots of dark humour.  
"Apparently, whoever took him out was faster and more sufficient. Mafia hit?"

"No, Don't think so. Mafia usually favours .22 caliber. But either way, I think its best you check into the others before you make a final hypothesis."

Victoria raised an eye brow. "Others? As in..?"

"Three," Mccarty announced." And not too far from each other.. well that is to say, the two are not."

Victoria shrugged her head and followed Jake past the corner, "Well show me to my lovelies."

Jake snickered, "You really need to get a hobby Vic."

"Hey look Jake, its not my fault I'm loosing good sleep and another late night viewing re-runs of Jerry Springer, Eating bon-bons, and dreaming of beautiful tan shirtless men. MY life carries the banner of seeing beauty in the most unlikely places. In this instance its dead corpses."

"Its a hell of a life I tell you," Jake agreed.

"Yes it is, my dear Jake." Victoria paused. "Say, where is your partner?"

"Who Sara? She's off for the night, kinda stressed over that case she has. She'll be on the morning shift tomorrow."

Vicky's eyes lit up, "Oh, yeah, results are in regarding those bones. Definitely was a murder if you ask me. I have to say, from the looks of it, I don't think Bruno wants to take it into Homicide though. He says the case is ancient, and the information is too vague. I don't agree but.. "

Jakes curiosity peaked, intelling the information as his voice became mute, and he finally spoke.  
"Wait, were did you hear that?"

"Overheard him talking to someone on the phone, sounded pretty confidential. I really shouldn't be telling you now that I think about it, its me and my ease-dropping," She stopped, but then her voice became a whisper, "But, something isn't right about it. Maybe he's waiting to hear the results before he informs Pez and Yee about it."

Jake's curiosities began to grind, "Vague Information.. how does he know that? Who would he be talking to?"

"I really shouldn't have mentioned anything. I really don't want to step on toes, especially Mr. Anal-Retentive's, but between you and me, I he was getting a second opinion."

"From?" He Inquired.

"Wasn't her case already reviewed by some British Detectives in Scotland Yard?"

Jake Nodded his head. "Yeah, how did you hear about that?"

"Vicky averted her eyes, "Well, it cant hurt being informed on origins when your dealing with remains. The Same information you got is probably readily available to anyone else."

Jake paused mischievously, realizing the reality of her comment was a complete farce, but agreed anyhow.

"Look I'm not sure who, in certainty, but by my personal examination and it just fits the bill."

Jake respected Victoria's stance,considering she usually was spot on with most of her analysis'. As the nearing of the second lifeless form became imminent before them, he filed the information somewhere inside his mind, at close recollection, but focused on the scene before him.

"Same Dress, same weapon, .45, this wound is fatal through the chest. Fired at semi-close range, approximately 30-40 feet. Victims front torso is pierced, his backside demolished. Caucasian, Dark hair, mid-40's. Possessed a 9MM as well for protection, apparently got off 2 shots before being disposed of by unknown assailant. Still leaning towards a mob hit, really gone awry . Whoever they were after definitely had faster reaction time. Where are the two others?"

After examining the third, seeing the same cause of death, Victoria looked up to Jake again.  
"Still thinking a mob hit gone wrong. Possibly, Government intelligence at this point, due to manpower. All were definitely slain by the same killer. So my conclusions are about the same..."

"Yeah that's fair enough." Jake paused as he walked away from the third corpse, and to the tape. Holding it up for Vicky to straddle under, he pulled himself under and through, and opened the car door for her.  
"Lets take a look at the last one."

Driving a few blocks down the street, they reached an entirely different crime scene and approached. Making their way through various dark alleys, they approached one to the rear. Photographs were being taken in a rapid succession.  
Vicky reached for a mask, and strapped it around her nose and mouth, which said a lot for her stomach that usually takes a lot to make weak.  
A man lay, head detached from his body, in a pile of crimson creeping through the pavement.

"That's definitely not a .45..."

* * *

Sara awoke encompassed in a coverlet. The cloth, so plush and welcoming lingered over her as she slowly closed her eyes once more, then reopened them. She had just experienced some of the best slumber in a long while but as her memory slowly began to come to her, the cocoon she felt herself wrapped in faded. And something else, she recalled as she pulled the covers off and observed her arm.  
A small bandage rested there.  
Flashes began to come to her; Nottingham pinning her to the wall, pleading with her to come with him.  
She remembered feeling a sharp pain then her body shaking.  
A creeping oblivion and then eventual darkness came.  
The bastard sedated her, she connected, and now had kidnapped her. 

There's definitely laws for that, she retorted privately, and then pushed the sheets aside aiming to find an exit.  
As her feet touched the ground, she realized that her shoes were gone, as well as her jacket.  
She would have opted her pistol was too, but then remembered one was used in the altercation, and the other was left on her dresser from the night before.  
She stopped. Was it the night before?  
She looked down at her wrist half waiting to find a watch then realized it wasn't there. Annoyed, she searched the room for any inkling of a devise that kept time and eventually settled on a grandfather styled clock in Roman Numerals that settled at 12:30 hanging on a broad pearl coloured wall.  
A wall covered in swords,she mentally noted, one side with Asian weaponry and the other in a medieval flair.

Curiously, she walked over as her focus attuned to a Katana placed upon two black pegs. As she ran her hand over the smooth part of the blade, flashes began to infiltrate her mind, as well as visions.

_Underground, it was. A Bustle ran among the workers in lab-coats over sirens sounding the warning of an intrusion.  
Calls were made to reinforcements, a plea. _

**10-35 - Invicta... 911, 10-45... Now! Were under attack, 911, 10-45, all units Now!  
**  
_After the last were sounded, glass shattered, followed by lethal gunfire.  
Scientists in lab-coats were disposed by quick bullets, and a legion of men began to infiltrate the structure. Dressed in black, one hooded man stood out heading toward a stern figure in a lab-coat, the director..._

_Between sparks and gunfire,A scream resounded.  
Soon later, an implosion to the mainframe.  
Nottingham came from the shadows, gun in hand.  
Indignant and raged filled, he aimed his gun at a fleeing director, clipped him in the chest, causing him to fall to the ground gripping it. In a concentrated brisk walk, he unsheathed his sword stalking his limping prey slowly. Pulling him up by his neck, he looked straight into the gasping man's eyes, and aimed the tip of the sword toward his heart, sealing to through.As he began to gasp, blood creeping up to his mouth, he boiled forth one word_.

_**"Irons..."**_

The vision faded briskly, and Sara found herself back in the room, blinking furiously; her hand still upon the blade.

Quickly removing it, her attention was turned to a soft click of a nearby door closing. As she spun around, Nottingham appeared, his hair glistening ebony slightly damp behind him and with eyes cast toward her.  
Sara returned the contact meeting his cold, as far as she was concerned, calculating orbs waiting for him to speak, make conversation, to break words, but that wasn't to happen.  
She reeled slowly in the vision that just passed, visualizing the man in front of her driving a sword through a heart of a man. How heartless could one man be? She thought silently, but putting all the aside, settling on the idea this is probably one flash of what was probably a lifetime of killing in cold blood, as an assassins's life is.  
Either way, she was ready to get out her here, death threats or not.  
She finally spoke addressing what, for the moment, seemed the vital issue at present.

"Where's my stuff?" She demanded.

Nottingham remained silent, working his gaze on her more keenly, then walking slowly toward her. Instead of answering the request on hand, he started on something completely austere.

"I hope you slept well."

Sara raised one of her eyebrows, and put a hand inside her pocket, hiding the balled up fist she was making.  
The nerve of him.

"Brilliant," she sarcastically started, "Being sedated and kidnapped is really standing highly on my 'to do list' but yes, the sleep was grand"  
She wasn't about to enlighten him on the fact that she was being pretty truthful about the sleep bit because as it stood, he didn't need a reason to lighten his load by her admitting he did something gracious and good for change.

"Where's my stuff, Nottingham?" She waited to see what would come next.

He continued on his own stream of thought.

"I'm sorry for that," he admitted, eyes downcast as a few strands escaped in front of his chiseled face.  
"But Sometimes, you tend to be quite...Unreasonable."

That was about the icing on the cake for any sensible remarks oozing from his mouth and about the last, she silently decided. Fighting mightily against the thought of just throwing a punch or two in his general direction, she scrunched her face, and continued to ball both her fists in her pockets.  
God how he irritated her. She was pretty sure though, this was exactly what he enjoyed, seeing her in a tizzy, fuming, and on the verge of a classic Pezzini anger session. So instead, she regained herself, well, as much as can be expected.

"Unreasonable," she mimicked. "I find that really contrary coming from someone who's viewpoint on saving them correlates to a kidnapping." That seemed to to strike some chord, because he changed the stream of the conversation.

"Your things are over there." He replied, pointing toward the bed she had just emerged from.  
"And You weren't kidnapped Sara, for as I recall, the only way you would willingly come here with me is if I carried you."

What a condescending jerk, she privately retorted. She rolled her eyes in physicality to his response and proceeded to take brisk strides to the nightstand. She pulled up one boot that was under it, and slipped it on. She could feel his eyes still upon her,and eventually his voice broke the air.

"I'm sure your hungry. I'll bring you something up, or you could come to the kitchen with me, if you like."

The thought of food did sound appetizing, considering it had been a whole day or longer since she made the pit stop with Danny at the diner. The Diner she recalled. The strange woman. That strange woman. Flashes of the night before, her shadowed figure, but more importantly, her words...They run like a mantra.

_**They are after an endless power... They had the science... the ingredients... But failure is nothing more then a goal that needs more attention..so they are coming...**_

She looked back to Ian, realizing as much as she needed to leave, she was too embroiled now within this situation, the witchblade too, and finished putting on her other boot.  
Almost as if a switch was flipped, she returned her gaze to Nottingham, and responded.

"Yeah, food sounds good. I'll go with you."

Strangely taken aback at her reassured answer,he quickly moved to oblige her request, realizing this could be the conversation truce between her insults and demands.He waited patiently for her to retrieve the rest of her things; a watch from the dresser, and her jacket from the bedpost, before leading her to a nearby door.

It eventually led out into a dark hallway light only by candles in their candelabrum's.  
Something clicked and then she began to shiver. As she put her jacket over her, the thought registered a window or any type of natural sunlight was never displayed, as would probably be the case if it was nearly 12:30 in the day.  
Her stone began to glow under her sleeve, in response to her doubts and she paused.  
Sensing it, Nottingham turned around to see why.

"Where are we Nottingham?" She inquired.

He was straightforward. "My Home."

That wasn't enough for Sara for she lowered an eyebrow, and cross both her hands over her body to drive away a chill that just presented itself.

"Notttingham," She paused, meeting his eyes. "Where are we?"

He was familiar with what she was really asking and decided to impart the rest of the answer to her inquiry.

"Underground."

Somehow that bit of information didn't quite give her a shock, but rather helped in making some type of sense of anything.

"So I'm in that much danger then."

Nottingham was calm, and collective; speaking clear and very simply.  
"Yes."

Might as well roll with the punches, she thought.  
"Care to explain this war to me then?"

He caught her gaze.

"I already planned to."


	8. Chapter 8

__

**Immergence VIII**

**_Finally! Definately more to come... and sooner then this 2 month Hiatus which had you waiting in between the previous installment.  
Plot is definately thickening._**

Feel free to leave comments!  
Be'Reshit.  


**_

* * *

_**

**2:30 AM**

Night Fell. The deepest resolve of escape through blissful sleep reigned. Between dreaming dreams of possessing crown jewels warn by Bloody Mary, or solving the mysterious origins of Captain Hook, Gabriel Bowmen slept on.  
Bright lights creeped on, flashing on his covered figure.  
Bright brilliant reports blairing sounds, and findings. The words slipped through the air, mingling like an enigma between his subconscience.

_We interrupt your scheduled broadcast to bring you this breaking news.  
Just a short time ago, reported gunshots were fired right behind me here Midtown, nearing 42nd Street and First Avenue West right on the border of the United Nations Headquarters.  
Three Casualities are reported to have been killed by the gunfire._

_Victims slain were said to have been armed and dangerous.  
Police have limited information at this time regarding details into these strange events, but due to the appearance of the deceased, they are leaning towards this being the work of an Organized Crime Family.  
While the wait continues for more information to become known, The United Nations have beefed up their security to a Red Terror alert concerning the unhealthy proximity to the world headquarters._

_We will keep you updated as this situation progreses..._

_Wait, wait... this just in.  
Another victim has been recovered a few blocks from First Avenue West.  
He is said to have been apart of the other three killed at gunpoint.. wait...What is that John?  
We have a report in that the last victim was decapitated. You sure John, Decapitated?  
Well, you heard it ladies of New York, you've heard correct.  
3 killed at gunpoint, one decapitated.  
Police are quick to call this the work of two suspects.  
And judging by the latest findings, both of, these predators are quite possibly still armed and dangerous.  
They are asking if anyone has any imformation on this ,to please come forward.  
Again, we'll keep you updated as information becomes known. And for those of you who are joining us, the latest from our news room brings you this disturbing report of voilence:  
Four slayings have been reported right outside the United Nations headquarters in Midtown Mahattan, causing the UN to raise there security alert to red, suspects are still at large, probably armed and dangerous.  
We invite you all to tune into our morning reel which hopefully will have more information for you but for now, we take you back to your regularlly scheduled broadcast... _

Gabriel stirred slightly, twisting and turning in his sheets.  
A voice peered inside his head, followed by a brillant sucession of colour. Her silhouette weaved in and out from him, contorting the until it was in view As details immerged, her ebony hair fluttered, her azure eyes glistened.  
Gabriel stopped, sheilding himself from the shining rays.  
He stared on at the apparitionin front of him, unbelievingly. 

"I... I know you..." he mumbled.

Like a manikin she stood, taking him in in a abstract way. Slowing maneuvering from herself, she turned her head, pointing to the brilliance of colour behind her.

**Go Now...**

Her voice was liquid fire, pressing.  
Confusion melted over Gabriel, as he stood frigid.  
"Go Where?"

**Go...Now. **

The woman turned around, walking into the light, as it faded to black. 

Gabriel shot up from his bed, thowing the sheets as deep breaths overtook him.  
Glancing the room over, his TV blarred with a late night infomercials. A few clicks of the nearby remote turned them off as turned on a light nearing the lampstand. Clearing is face from sleep, he made his way to the bathroom before a rustling sounds caught his attention.  
Grabbing a hockystick from behind the door, he inched forward, finally springing a full speed, weapon drawn.  
Only emptiness pervaded, as Gabriel's eyes scanned for assurance. Peering from the top, a brisk wind filled the bathroom courtesy of an opened window.  
Raising his hockystick again, he walked to the perch. Waiting silently, for anything, only another breeze condended while a A brown paper bag lay on the perch.  
Staring at it with curiousity, it quicky swiped it up into his arms and bolted the window down.  
Shutting the bathroom door quickly and returning to check the rest of his flat, he carried his hockystick, pushing on all the lights and checking the security systems.  
After nothing seemed out of the ordinary in that way, he moved to his computer and pulled up the security cameras.  
In moments they loaded, only bringing up images of a dark deserted ally.

Gabriel took a moment to catch his breath, searching the room once more.  
After a few more moments, he finally turned his attention to the brown paper bag he grabbed off the window seal.  
It was crumpled on his accord, with a small staple holding it together at the top.  
Ripping it out from the three folds it embraced, he turned the bag upside down, empting a necklace into his hands.  
Pulling it up to the light to examine it, the gold chain sparkled under the dim light, but something more brilliant came into view.  
A crest appeared, a horse at a gallop in midair behind a shield, followed by two creatures on either sides.  
Gabriel paused, then gasped.  
Lettering was emblazzened in the gold charm.  
"What the hell..."

Automatically, Gabriel reached for his phone, punched in some numbers.  
The phone rang and rang.  
The idea Sara might be sleeping just registered, but Gabriel was finding himself privy this time and moment to put all matters of personal need aside. Sara needed to know this. Wasnt it only 3 hours ago she was with him, going through a parade of thoughts to try and figure out just what it meant.  
And how strangely life would have it, here he possesed the exact piece of jewelry that sparked the mad sucsession of inquiries.

More ringing prevailed without an answer as the message service took over.  
"_Pezzini.. Go.." _

Gabriel breathed in an intense urge of importance into his voice as he spoke.  
" Pez, I know your sleeping, but you might want to pick up the phone, now. I have something you need to see." 

With that, he ended the call bitting down on his lip nervously. Checking his securty cameras once more, only for them to reveal nothing,He ended the call, placing the phone on his desk.

* * *

**4:40AM, Morgue & Crime Lab, Upper WestSide**

Victoria Poe's eyelids hung low as she raised an arm towards her forehead. This early morning would stretch into later morning as she was well aware. Taking a quick swig of a strong batch of mountain roast, she placed it back onto the counter.  
An Autoposy of the first victim was just completed, the second was in the works. And two more were on the agenda.  
It was nights like this Vickie would rethink the course of her life, but instead put her wandering Four AM thoughts aside and moved on to other things.

She turned her attention towards a vile picked off victim number one. Placing her gloves, she took a small pair of tongs and held it to the light. Fingerprints appeared under the flurescent beams.  
A clear liquid shifted inside the glass as she moved it up then down.  
Drawing a bit of it out with a syringe, she placed it in a petri dish, and placed it under a magnifying glass that scanned over its contents, and powedered the vile while placing the bottle back into a plastic bag.  
She then proceeded to place the dish under a laser, which was adjoined to a nearby computer.  
Vickie viewed them with intrique. Technology was at its prime when it came to the field of Forensics.  
Nimerous elements and componants making up the substance flooded into the computer system.

"Interesting..."

She removed her gloves, and took another sip of the coffee on the counter.  
After the computer finished its intel, a noted origin for the substance became clear.  
After a command given, the nearby printer sparked to life quietly.

Moving her from there toward a hair sample that was taken into collection from the deceased jacket, she placed a solution on it and ran another scan into the computer. It wasnt long until Vickie's once droping eyes popped open, filled with curiousity and doubt with the results that just presented itself.

"What the hell..."

She barely mumbled it, typing in a few things, re-issuing the search, knowing what just came up was a glitch in the system.  
Staring at the screen in disbelief, hoping it was just a 5AM glare, she realized it wasnt. She shook her head, as if the motion would turn away the solid fact of forensic evidence.  
It didn't.  
In quick strides, she removed the strip of hair and placed it back into a small clear plastic bag, concealed it tightly and clearing all mention of the search she had just performed.

"It can't be. No can't be..."

Her mumbles of disbelief continued as she pulled out her cell phone, punching a few numbers upon the keypad.  
A few rings mustered before a masculine voice proceeded on the other end in response.

"Yeah."

"Jake, I think you should come down here."

No trace of humour could be detected in her voice, Jake noted.

"A break I presume?" Jake rolled his buzzing inquiry through the radio signals.

"If you want to call it that."

Jake raised an eyebrow.

"We'll see you in ten. I'm stopping for coffee. You want me to bring you back anything?"

Victoria cut him short.

"Skip the coffee, just come."

Jake knew something definately was in. He obliged without more then a few words.

"On my way."

A few minutes passed before Jake entered through the doubled doors, entering a security code behind him.  
He looked onward at Vickie, who was finishing up a handling of what appeared to be a vile.  
He registered it was probably the same one he picked off the victim.

"You got something on that?"  
He inquired, pulling a few stray blonde hairs from his forehead and tucked them behind his ear.  
Vickie cast her brown orbs on him, setting down the vile once more and removing her gloves.

"Seems we got a cocktail for the more sophisticated Speed addit. This is a rare liquid base for a Heavy Methamphetamine merged with insane amounts of Iodine. In Synthesis there's the Methcathinone, worked to increase the Serotonin levels in the brain, thus causing quicker reaction time. The elements and bases match a drug that is cued as "_Liquid Ice_. "

Jake's thoughts scanned, it became present in this facial expressions.

"_Liquid Ice_. That sounds familiar. Wait, wasn't that an experimental drug used by African Gorillas in the Congo? It attributed to the many attrocities unique to the Tribal African Regions? That stuff was banned, supposidly destroyed because it completely made people insane. How could these guys have gotten their hans on such a rare commodity?"

Vickie racked a hand through her curls taking a sigh, knowing any informtion abstract and uncanny at this point would only increase as the conversation went on..

"I'm not sure. Identification is still being researched, but I happened to get fingerprint matches. The one on the vile matches up with post mordem victim number one. Suggesting from the looks of these guys, Definately not organized crime, no Mafia involvement here. They are British, possibly English. Taking a few close examinations of dental records could tell you that much," Vickie amused herself with that bit then continued.

" Of course, there's more proof behind that theory I could bore you with in details, but I will trust you find them less entertaining and really of no more import. I found it interesting that this Liquid Ice was processed and engineered by the British, origins going back to a small lab in Dover time frame covering the early to mid 90's. That would be kind of convienant, dont you think?"

Jake was one to trust Vickie's judgements, but scanning his knowledge of the situation, he raised the dispute that reflected instead.

"But Liquid Ice is a Worldwide Underground substance. It's been tracked in China and India. Eastern Europe is a huge breading ground for it not too long ago. The Iraqi's had use of it. That was uncovered by the UN durring imposed sanctions. Iranian Mujahedin who had autoposies done had shown high traces this substance in their blood, and that goes as far back as the mid to late 70's, counting the Islamic Revolution. How could it only have had its origins in the 90's?"  
Jake took a seat next to the desk. A long discussion was to ensue, he knew.  
Vickie was apparently impressed with the Encyclopedia antics that roused him just moments ago.

"If I didn't know you better, I would think your sources span deeper then the regional Eleventh prescient."  
She paused, noting an interesting expression passing over him, but continued on another course.

"Apparently there was a basis for Liquid Ice in an earlier forms, origins of it being untraced. Some have the theory it was found in a rare DNA strand, abstracted, and built upon, but this one uncovered is the updated version. Almost like a refined Synthesis. I really dont know anymore then what Forensics have concluded.  
We have Liquid Ice engineered by the British, which is confirmed in the amount of Iodine added. Not a constant feature of the previous predassor, to say the least.  
This form is much more deadly, and more effective. The restriction of the drug was issued by a United Nations decree which called it very dangerous, consitering it was assosiated with almost all soldiers and gorillas that engaged in the worst genocides history has recorded. For instance, the in The Albanian conflicts of the mid nineties, the Congo Wars, and other Tribal confrontations since then. It was used to create super soldiers, but made them superhuman homicidal maniacs instead.  
It is interesting to not there were no traces of this found in our victim, post mordem, which leads me to believe these men in question probably work for Some type of Intelligence. The beefed up wear, .45 caliber. They were out for blood. Motive and solving this your deal."

Jake paused.  
"So if no liquid Ice was found in our man here, then why the vile? Think they were planning to use it on someone else? Possibly our suspects at large?"

Vickie raised an eyebrow in surrender.  
"Its possible. I mean no syringe was found. The stuff has a 100 percent reaction rate when pumped up the rectum. Maybe he was planning on giving someone some action somewhere down the line."

Jake smirked, rubbing off Vickie's last words.  
"Please Vic, leave all the soft-core porn antics away for now when dealing with Government conspiracies that should be put on the FBI and not measly NYC Homocide detectives."

Vickieg glared playfully taking another sip of her coffee, it would be the last for a while to come.

"Its more a scientific knowledge. I've still got another three dates to come. Just me, with a pair of gloves, surgical gown, and various sharp objects, poking and prodding post mordem sex gods with wretched teeth. Oh the follies and joys."

"And you will enjoy every minute of it I am sure." Jake's blue orbs held a playfulness in them.

"Of course I do, but either way, if they conclude with anymore James Bond psycho drama for one early morning,, believe me Goldy Locks, why I called you down here so fast will.." She paused, building the anticipation in the air.  
"Floor you."

Her voice brought a chill that sent shivers down Jake's spine. As if a switch was flipped in without warning, her demeanor became ice.  
She continued.

"I managed to pull a hair sample off our man, and conducted tests. And when I say tests, I mean, multiple. And these tests proved conclusive, and identifying."

Jake lowered his eyes.  
"So we got a lock on one of killers?"

Vickie shook her head, and turned up the search she had conducted eariler.  
A Sure record came up, that belonged none other then to someone who worked in their own department.

"Oh... my... God..."

Jake trailed, lost, and trailed once more. He fell to his knees in disbelief.

"Sara?"


	9. Chapter 9

_**Immergence IX**_

* * *

Jake composed himself as much as was possible.  
He failed miserably.

"This is all too weird..."  
It was all he could manage.

"I thought the same thing, I've checked the search numerous times, the results are the results. I don't know what Sara's involved in. I highly doubt she killed government Intelligence, but what put her in the crossfire this the conundrum here. When's the last time you've seen her?"

Jake racked a hand through this hair, musing his blond locks in a disarray.

"Yesterday. Danny, Sara and myself were going over information on the Kent Case."  
He stopped and then proceeded to think about portions of the conversation that transpired from the day before.

_**"She becomes involved with an Escort Service under the faction, Babylon Girls... It was busted for involvement in a massive prostitution ring that was uncovered in 1996...  
Now this specific service had frequent clientele from British Intelligence...  
Due to the information I just covered, the investigation launched for Victoria was never officially made into one for Sage...  
After the Investigation was debunked 2 years into it, with no information, no leads or evidence, it was tossed away in a cold case file. Sage's copy of his birth certificate was noted to have been a fallacy...no vital records exist, none...  
...Looks like someone is going through a lot of trouble to remove his life from the parchment...**_

_**...Whats the matter Woo? No spunk? Quite frankly, I'm intrigued with what our rogue Brits were up to..."**_

The last statement ran through Jake's mind like wildfire. A Small coincidence? He found it difficult to swallow. He also found both these cases to be too incidental in the their combination of one thing.  
Jake looked up again at Vicky, who was raising one of her infamous eyebrows. He could tell she was reading him like an open book. When it came to his feelings, it seemed, it was quite an obvious notion he was not truly a conditioned homicide detective from New York. His origins stretched from other lands.

"Whats on your mind? " She inquired, Jake saw the question coming.

He proceeded to rise to his feet, pacing the crime lab back and forth before he spoke.  
"I would like a professional assessment from your standpoint, Vicky."

Vicky leaned back in her chair and folded her hands across her white lab coat.  
"Hit me."

"How many times do homicides that involve Government Intelligence hit a normal prescient in the city?"

Vicky was amped to answer this one. As it turned out, she had statistics from going over a survey not too long ago.

"Percentage of post mortem victims that I've examined having links to some type of Government Activity are usually 1 in 1,320 Million in the last two years. And all those are allegedly of American Intelligence, almost none from Foreign countries. But when examined, most of these claims were unfounded. Being in the city, We have more Organized Crime cases that average 1 in 500. And even that percentage has dwindled since the take of laws reinforced, stigmas, and fears. The average crime is usually committed by individuals, not organizations, and especially not sophisticated Intelligence organizations. "

Jake nodded approvingly. He gathered as much, but the rummage of statistics still helped him link his thought process together even better.

"What do you think the of the possibility two cases springing forward simultaneously back to back involving elements of Intelligence activity?"

Vicky crinkled her nose, it was her way of showing the perturbation of the scenario just proposed.  
She instead sighed a heavy sigh, and shook her head in a wave of exhaustion that seemed to come from nowhere.  
Well maybe from somewhere. It was ten minutes past 5AM.

"Its not possible. Just, not."

Of course her wording lacked the Scientific finesse of numbers Jake was so used to, but it drove home the more powerful point.  
Vicky placed a hand to her forehead, it was a nervous motion.

"I have no idea what is going on. And I do not think my head can take it right now."

It was the most honest assessment from the whole conversation, Jake concluded silently. He didn't doubt Vicky's weariness for a second.  
He stopped his pacing, then leaned his weight on the table for support. He sighed, heavily, dropping his head, and then started to speak in a hushed manner.

" I did not want to mention it yet, but since this is out, I think you should know."

Vicky gazed unusually.

"Know what?"

Jake focused on her eyes, reluctantly speaking.

" I recovered Sara's registered .22 a few streets over from the crime scene." He paused as Vicky's features rose to disbelief before he continued,  
" It was loaded. She didn't even get a shot off. I've been trying to phone her but I've gotten no answer. I even swung by her apartment, but she didn't answer."

Vicky's eyes widened.

"What in the world?"

Her reaction was measured with confusion, accompanied by worry. There definitely was too much psycho craziness bizzaro antics going on for one morning.

" So what do you think? She's hiding?"

"No, I don't think that's in Sara's makeup. I wanted to give this till the morning, see if she shows."

Vicky hated to think about something as precise as protocol during the course of this conversation, but it came to her all the same.

" So what do we do? Report this to Dante? Keep it under wraps?"

Jake knew it was almost immediate suspension if any of this got out into the captain's hands, pressing the issue if forensic reports were tampered with. And judging by the track record Dante had with Sara, he would find prime pleasure to interrogate and scold her, degrade her sense of morality, eventually ending the session with a throwing to the wolves. Mentally, he couldn't allow that, and he knew he wouldn't allow anyone else to contribute ot it either.  
It was obvious enough Vicky thought the same, but the liability of her work rode highly on her mind. As it stood, she moved like she was on pins and needles.

"Finish all the autopsies first. Gather the rest of the evidence. We have no weapon linking Sara as being a killer. Hell, Vicky, we know she isn't. All we have is the knowledge she was present. As it stands, she is the proof we need to solve this crime."

Vicky twitched.  
"This is a serious offense, Jake. You ask my silence on something that could cost me my livelihood. I don't know if I'm willing to risk that..."

Jake made his way to where she sat, and placed his hands on her shoulders in a gentle caress, almost quieting her.

"No, Vicky. I'm asking you to remain discrete and gather all the evidence before you report. We need to see if Sara is okay. Whatever is going on, she's in deep. We need to know what is transpiring here and don't worry, you will not loose your job over this. Trust me on that one."

Vicky gained calm in his touch, the composure came too, but still uncertain of him. In one moment, he could be portrayed very childlike in demeanor, unmasked and predictable, and in the next, a grown experienced man who seems to lead on a commanding air. It baffled her.  
She decided to add it to the list of mysteries for the early morning hours. The list was growing, she mentally noted to herself.  
Either way, his looks cast toward her realized the questions were not over.

"What is it?"

She prodded, knowing he was thinking of something else to ask of her.  
Jake looked around the lab, averted his eyes each and every way before he finally turned back on her.

"It's about what you said back at the crime scene. What about Dante are you not telling me?"

Vicky paced slighty in her breathing. In one way or another she knew it was coming.  
He had questioned her there like a mad one, but delicately dropped the matter. She was thankful for that. Either way, the conversation ceased with the notion it would begin somewhere else. And she hadn't mistaken Jake's resolve to get the full story. She filled him in with facts on what she knew, what she could express, and hoped it would be enough to sate anymore questions for a time space.

"I overhead him talking to someone about stripping this case from homicide as a personal favour. Apparently it's something we were not suppose to run into."

Jake somehow didn't see that as surprising. Everything about the case was wishy-washy, concerning an analysis of it from the parchment.

"And who is he in the sheets with?"

"I really don't know. My assessment would be Scotland Yard? Who else? The call was on his personal phone. There's no means of tracking it.. legally. But I heard him, he was going to give the message out to Woo and Pez this morning when they came in."

Jake stood up, narrowing his eyes.  
All this mystery.  
It makes for a man to want to take a coffee break or go to sleep. Both sounded good at the moment to Vicky.

"We've got two snakes in the grass right now. We need to keep an eye on both of them. Sara is hiding something, Dante is in cahoots with someone. If Sara does not surface in the morning, we knew she is definitely hiding something."

Vicky challenged that thought process.  
"How sure are you of that?"

"I'm not." he said with certainity. Vicky glared lightly at the way he pegged Sara before he chose to speak once more,  
"But thats why we need to keep this between us. That's why you need to not say nothing until you get a fun report."

His Blue eyes made contact with her Chestnut orbs. Vicky was well aware of the point Jake was driving home.  
In a solemn nod, she agreed.

* * *

The Nine O'Clock morning hour approached.  
Danny Woo entered the building buzzing with various faxes, phones and a mingle of people. On his verge into one of the offices in the far corner, a brooding figure approached him. It was none other then Lieutenant Dante.  
Danny stopped in his tracks as his brooding dark brown eyes focused on him.

"Woo."

His name was accompanied with a arm motioning him to follow.  
He did, which led them to another office on the other side of the building, the outside of it reading his Captain's name.  
He entered behind, closing the door, and staring straight forward.  
Dante was already speaking before any pleasantries could be entertained.

"I'm suspending the investigation of the Kent case from you and Detective Pezzini."

Dante was acute as he spoke

" Now I don't know what late night excursions are holding your partner from being here on time, but when she gets in I will leave it to you to enlighten her."

Danny raised an eyebrow.

"Sir, If I may ask why this action is being taken. If being stripped from homicide, ad least let it have a hearing into special investigations. Evidence we are in the process of collecting is showing this case to be---"

"I don't want to hear it Woo. Whatever you are finding is inconclusive. We've got four fresh corpses that surfaced on the mouth of the UN last night, among another three of lead traveling through 14 year olds on a basketball court near 14th street.. That's this morning alone. Bodies that are fresh and still bleeding. Crimes that can be solved. I don't want to hear about some dead and dried bones, conspiracies and mistaken identities. Its sucking up our resources for real homicides."

Danny wasn't in any line of mood to challenge Dante's mood at present. His point of complaint was challenged well, but between professionalism and carelessness, it took a nosedive.

"I understand sir. But ad least pass this information onto the Scotland Yard, have them do a follow--"

"The Yard has been updated on the information. They have no jurisdiction since the remains have been found on American soil to proceed with a case of that age on it. We are fortunate we got a identity. Let this die, Woo. I grow tired of hearing myself explain things you, by all means I know are capable of understanding."

Dante turned his face away from Danny in matter of fact way to end the dispute and spoke.

"I've assigned you and Pezzini to align with Mccarrty in the UN murders. The medical examiner should be done with a full report now, so nothing should be stopping you. That is all."

Danny's patience was his best virtue. It was a fact because it stayed with him at that crucial moment when he stared on at Captain Dante for a few more moments before turning to exit the office.  
In some ways, he was relieved. The case was a bit much, but he was very doubtful as to how Sara was going to handle the news.  
She just might march in there and threaten discrepancies galore, including tampering with the evidence gathered.  
He knew that well.

He grabbed his cup of coffee he had set down before traveling the distance to Bruno's hideout, and then to the Crime Lab for the forensics reports.  
He glanced momentarily through the drawn blinds to see if Sara had made her way into the room, but to no avail.  
There was no sight of her.  
Pulling his phone from his pocket he dialed a few numbers, waiting for her to answer.  
Nothing came but her message box.  
Inquiringly, he reached the doors to the lab, posed the security codes to enter and when approaching, found Vicky Poe sitting behind one of the desks.

"Morning Danny."

Her greeting was quaint, a little laced with exhaustion. He also could imagine why. If she performed four autopsies as Dante implied, it would explain her demeanor now. She looked at him again, and then behind him.  
Danny noticed the movement, but didn't dwell on it.

"Say, Where's Pez?"

Danny rubbed his forehead.

"Probably caught in traffic."

Vicky narrowed an eyebrow.  
"Hmm... I don't see how on a motorcycle, but anyway, here's the report on the UN Murders."

Danny looked at Vicky questioningly. How could Vicky possibly know the case had been given off to them? He only found out minutes ago.

"Who?"

Danny questioned her, waiting to see her response.  
Vicky inwardly wanted to slap herself at the obvious attempt of exposing something so stupid, but covered it off well.

"Did I say the UN reports?"  
She removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes, and released a yawn.  
Instead, she handed him the file on Victoria Kent, containing the bone statisitcs, and returned her glasses to her face.

"I'm sorry Danny. Twelve h hour shifts of cutting up people this have caused my mind not to work so well."

Danny relaxed, believing her fatigue to be genuine, which it was.

"Well its okay. Someone needs to do it."

He paused before he continued.  
"As it stands, we are off the Kent Case. Maybe you should be register with clairvoyants, Vicky. You got a knack for it." Danny grinned, before he continued, "Dante aligned Pez and I to the UN murders with Mccarty. Those reports would be of much help then."

Vicky handed the folder to Danny, before she explained all she knew of the scene, causes of death, and forensics she had obtained.  
She then paused, staring at Danny for a minute. It wasn't long before he picked up on it, placed the file down.

"What else is there?"

He inquiry was brief and to the point. Damn him for being such a good detective.

Vicky reeled at telling Danny everything, but then remembered the oath of allegiance she had sworn to Jake.She grabbed the coffee from the counter, and took a sip.

"I'm sorry Danny. I believe that would be called Spacing. There was nothing else."

That was convincing enough, she silently applauded herself, but then let the thought die.Danny stared on at her, questioning in his detective demeanor.  
But he spoke once more, only addressing one issue.

"Get some sleep, Vicky."

With that, he nudged her arm, and headed in a way to find Mccarty.  
Returning to the main station, he glanced back in the room to see if Sara had arrived.  
No Sara.

Grabbing his jacket from the rack, he exited the prescient, loaded into the car, and revved the engine.

* * *

The air hit cold as Danny parked the car on the side of the street and Sara's apartment building came into view.  
The Sun was shining, brightly, as a nosy neighbour peering in through the blinds behind the sparse clouds.  
It warmed him from the chill.

Making mental note of Sara's bike parked in a garage underneath, he shook his head.  
What could she be up to? He wondered.  
Sara wasn't one to sleep in.  
He made his way up to the top of the stairs were her door came view. Knocking a few times, patiently, he waited. Sara was home he knew. Or ad least he thought he did. He knocked again, waiting, this time it was accompanied by him calling into beyond.

"Pez? You here? It's Danny."

Silence answered him, a slight echo marred the hallway between the stairwell.

"Pez?"

Tensing a bit at the situation, he pulled his ear to the door. Sounds infiltrated the inside, he heard. Unable to make out the source, he decided to call once again. Maybe she just came in from another room.

"Pez?"  
"Sara?"  
"It's Danny."

He listened again. Nothing.

Reaching a point to take matters into his own hands, he started at the doorknob half expecting it to be locked, but when it started to turn back, he stopped. Pulling a gun from its casing, he then slowly turned it further, revealing the inside.  
Cautious at will, he cocked his gun, scanning the room. A set of keys rested on the nightstand next to the door. He made a mental note before moving along.  
Averting his head higher, he could see the bright display, the sunlight that flooded the modest sized studio apartment.

He traced the room with his gun drawn, scanning the bathroom and small crevices. The sounds he heard from the hallway still laid on his mind as he moved through with much circumspection. After a thorough examination turned up no results, his eyes stopped on Sara's bed.  
It had been unslept in, neat and made. Or so he assumed.  
Catching sight of another night table, he lowered his eyebrow.  
As bright as day, Sara's pistol rested there. Picking it up, he noticed the safety was off.  
As his confusion built, he put it on, and checked it. Fully loaded. Returning it to the counter, he was caught off guard by a knocking diversion.

Paced to reaction, he raised his gun only see a gust of Autumn wind kick in, soaring the window passably, its shutters slamming again the side of the building. Walking slowly over to it, he closed it, and locked it. Another look of mystery found way onto his etched features.  
It wasn't long after that footsteps of a person were heard, moving through the outer hallway.

Raising his gun higher, he waited to see where they would go. They approached closer until the breadth of them were on the edge of the door.  
Danny pulled himself behind a piece of furniture, and waited.  
The door swung open slowly.  
Danny removed the safety.  
The feet a male were seen, under the door, and then a wealth of dark hair peered over the wooden frame.  
He entered, slightly and ever so gently when he knocked.  
Danny tensed, the action putting him on edge.  
When no one answered, he proceeded to round the corner.

When Gabriel Bowman entered, he was met with a .22 pointing at his head.  
Danny didn't bother to lower it.

"Wow... Just... wow..."

Gabriel's voice cracked and trailed. He placed his hands up in a surrender, that process didn't take much thought. Now was about the right time to piss his pants, if there ever a good time for that sort of thing. He made it a mental note of it to himself but decided to keep his excretments inward.

Danny approached carefully taking in the man's features. A muse of dark brown tresses, graced with a black shirt, leather jacket and denim jeans.  
A kid, he assessed.

"Um.. It's okay.. Really..."  
Gabriel trailed moving ever so slight back toward the door.  
" Nothing wrong here... Really man..."  
Gabriel mused sporadically.

Danny lowered his gun slowly, seeing him as no threat. Maybe it was the wild eyed look of Brown orbs Gabriel possessed or maybe it was the immediate surrender. Either one, his intuition said otherwise.  
Gabriel could feel the breath of life enter him once again and halted his descent.

"Who are you?"

Danny kept the gun at close range to aim it again, which Gabriel dully noted, but that was more then enough entrance to tell him all he wanted to know. He was in an interrogation mode. And when those modes hit, no cop should ever be denied, or defied.

"My name's Gabriel, Gabriel Bowmen. I am a friend of Sara's. Just checking up on her..." he trailed.

Although he never had a formal greeting with this young man, he did have random spurts of memories that showed him to be familiar. Of course the reasoning behind that held no founded notion, and bordered on absolutely uncanny, but it didn't seem to be the pressing issue as of the moment. Danny pulled out his badge, letting its viewing become clear.

"NYPD. I 'm Pez's Partner, Name's Woo."

Danny returned it to his jacket after Gabriel's eyes eased with less fear.

"Woo as is...Woo.." Gabriel stressed the last part then trailed once more, searching the detective's eyes.

Gabriel knew it was probably bad timing on his part to be insulting an Asian man's given surname, but he did so either way .Besides what else is he to say? Gabriel felt a rush of relief when a low key smile passed his features.

"Danny," he corrected.

Before Gabriel could reason he smiled, his facial features were straight once again, and his interrogation mode was back into play.

"Look Gabriel, Sara hasn't shown up for work this morning. Have you seen her?"

Gabriel lowered his eyebrow.

"No, I haven't. Why... is she missing?"

Gabriel had a way of driving the point right home. Of course the thoughts running through Danny's head didn't move in that direction this early, but he took a look at her house keys on the counter, her loaded pistol with the safety off, her bed made neatly, and the window he previously closed that lay ajar minutes before and a sick sensation just came through his stomach.  
Sara was here last night, but she didn't stay. Unless she left this morning, and would suddenly walk in on them in any minute.  
Danny highly doubted that.  
He looked back at Gabriel, whom was taking him in with pointed examination.

"When's the last time you've seen her?"

Gabriel hesitated, but answered all the same.

"Last night," he mirtlessly imparted.  
"She was at my place, out of it really. Eventually she left to get some sleep."

Danny took in Gabriel's body language as he spoke.  
He moved gingerly, with a bit of worry.

"What time did she leave?"

Danny raised his head, waiting for a response.

"12... 12:30. Look Detective, I don't know what's going on, but I do know one thing. Sara hasn't been home."

The more Gabriel decided to express, the more Danny felt his stomach churn.

" I tried to call her last night, you know, just to see if she got in okay," Gabriel lied, but then continued, "And she didn't answer. I figured she was sleeping at that time, and decided I'd try again in the morning. But she hasn't called me back at all. It's not like her. There's something wrong, Detective."

He was on no grounds to disagree. But something did wear on his mind.

" Why was she there so late with you?"

Gabriel reasoned this question was coming, he plotted his words carefully, without dodging the truth.

"I own a business called Tailsmains dot com, is based around relics, magical items, and everything on my the name base. Sara had an inquiry about a meaning of an English Crest. In my line of work. a good knowledge of history is accompanied with the objects I am commissioned to find, so I was doing a bit of research for her."

"An English Crest you say? Why?"

"I'm not sure.." Gabriel Trailed, he knew he could get Sara in a lot of trouble if he openly proclaimed to her partner she wasn't keeping her cases confidential.

"I don't know the details. I would assume, maybe it had something to do with a case she had. She never said."

Danny crossed his arms. He knew Gabriel was telling a half truth. That bit wasn't hard to monitor. He wasn't game to dance around in circles while the heroic crush played word games around him. He cut to the chase.

"Sara was acting weird yesterday, and I couldn't place it. Did she act.. strange before she left last night, aside from being tired? To be there at 12.. 12:30, must have been some very important information."

Gabriel raised his eyebrow. He knew where Danny was going with this. Breaking his resolve, he spoke.

"I worry about she's getting herself into." Gabriel started to pace the room before he broke with the rest.  
"She's had connections to a guy named Nottingham, he's the new CEO of Vorschlag Industries."

Danny listened intently. This was the first time he was hearing anything of this, and it took him by surprise. Questions welted up within him. He read the reports of the changing hands after the late Kenneth Irons passed from strange causes. Though the case was never fully solved, it wasn't enough to prevent Irons Son to take over absolute control of his industries. From the limited public appearances he made, Nottingham struck Danny as far from the corperate buisnessworld type. As reports would have it, he was rumoured rather to have been Irons hitman bodyguard for more then a decade with unfounded evidence into that claim. Danny personanally didn't find it hard to believe. He looked like a seasoned killer juiced up in expensive garbs. The worry continued as he zoned in on more of Gabriel's words.

"She got wrapped up in

* * *

reading a news article about Nottingham stripping funds to the UN last night. I think it set her off. She left so fast, and I don't know what to think. I think she might have paid this Nottingham guy a visit."

Danny lingered in thought, looking around the room again. So many myseties, not enough time.

"Or maybe he paid her a visit."

But the reason why a millionaire would straddle the likes of a cop baffled him. There was a pause of silence.

"Gabriel, why the connection?"

That was more information then Gabriel was willing to spout.

"I don't know."

Danny let it rest. Finding Sara as this point was more important.  
He headed for the door.

"Well lets go pay Mr. Nottingham a visit."

* * *

Jake and Gabriel made downstairs, out the building and into the car, after a brief call from Jake with an update being measured.  
They started making progress through the city, when suddenly Danny caught side of a motorcycle trailing them after five minutes.

Gabriel noticed it to, a bit uneasy.  
Danny maneuvered the car, accompanied with twists and turns. After turning past a narrow street lane, the motorcycle seemed to disappear through the morning traffic leaving both with bewildered expressions.

As the roads became more quieter, the entry to 1111 Faul street came into view.  
Danny took another look behind him, to see if they had been followed, as it came with his nature of suspision.  
Nothing surfaced.  
An examination came of the outside perimeter. So did the realization security systems were not present.  
So they both climbed the descent up the grassy acropolis, to where the menacing mansion began. Peering through a random folded blind, Gabriel glanced inside. A room came into view, but what rested on his immediate eyes made him vault back a few inches.  
Danny declared to know the reason why.

"It's a good thing it's inside," he informed.

As Danny took a look for himself; a black widow made its resting place on the perch of the window.

"You would think someone as rich as Nottingham could afford upkeep," Danny tossed over his shoulder.

"Yeah, that's if he cared to. This place is obviously abandoned."

Gabriel viewed the perimeter once more catching sight of a narrow walkway leading to the back of the mansion.  
It winded and waved through the greenery intil finally a small dirt road led to the entrance of a sized metal door.  
It stood tall, menacing. Gabriel couldn't help but feel he's seen this before, rushing his eyes over it. It wasn't long before he caught sight of a keypad that hid itself behind a metal slab.  
Danny took another bewildered look at Gabriel.  
For someone who wasn't suppose to know anything, he was leading the way like he tread these paths before.  
Familiar ground.  
He raised an eyebrow as Gabriel's brown eyes intently glided over the buttons.

"It's a Retina scanner," he informed.

Gabriel seemingly started to pace as his estranged memories started to flood over him. Danny stood back with his hands crossed, almost waiting for Gabriel to just pull out Nottingham's iris and enter without any questions asked. Instead, he turned to face him with another proposition.

"There's no way through this. We need to find another way in."

Danny peered down, acknowledging fresh tire tracks shaping the dirt.

"This is the way in."  
He pointed to the ground.

"It's a small vehicle, definitely a motorcycle." Danny stated matter of factly.  
"But what I don't understand, Gabriel, is... who you had trail us here."

Gabriel turned to face the proposition of mistrust just laid upon him.

"Excuse me?" His tone became indignant.

Danny became relentless.

"That's right, Bowman. Your circumspection has been very fluid since we've gotten here. Now I do not know what your hiding, but I find it all a bit too... questionable."

Gabriel couldn't believe what his ears were hearing, a confession of guilt.

"I don't know where you get off with this stuff..." he trailed, diverting his attention toward the green scenery behind him. An en-cloaked figure roaming from over the hill caught his attention. Pointing, Danny already had his .22 pulled, finding an alternate path back to the building. With much stealth, they watched as the blackness disappeared.

Scanning the area again, they looked at each other. Gabriel's reaction was enough of a testimony for Danny to let the feud rest.  
As Danny turned, Gabriel couldn't let out his warning in time.

Such was the blunt trauma encompassing Danny, that all he remembered was an absolute darkness before becoming a limp heap of bones and joints falling to the ground.  
The en-cloaked figure that inflicted the damage stood over Woo's body, a weapon of sorts in hand, staring straight into Gabriel's chestnut eyes.  
With fluid moments, the silhouette inched away slowly from over his listless form,all in a manner that took little time.

By this time, Gabriel bolted into a full fledged sprint, praying to god he would make it to the car before a sharp pain issuing from his back sent him plummeting into the ground, dirt kicking into his mouth by the blunt force.  
Struggling to turn from his stomach, he grimaced in pain, ripping out a projectile dripping with his blood.  
He blinked furiously as his world started to fade.  
The figure was standing on top of him, in blackness.

"Who?"

It was all Gabriel could manage.

Before his senses became obsolete, the black mask was removed, and a wealth of long ebony hair tumbled down from it.

"You? But... "

Before Gabriel could continue, the release of all alertness abandoned him.  
Blackness became his world.

With little effort, the figure slung Gabriel over one shoulder, and then Danny over the other, making way to the entrance.  
A retina was scanned, and the doors opened.  
Without much thought, they closed, connecting metal with metal. 


	10. Chapter 10

_**Immergence X**_

A stillness camped between the concrete walls. The dim lights that presented themselves became the result of the choice candle holders that circled the room. In the process, it casted shadows on the sparsely populated items present: a table, a few chairs, and counter-tops with non-perishables grazing the top.  
Sara could have reasoned World War 3 started, and she was one of the privileged few to find shelter in an underground bunker. Aside from the fact she knew it hadn't come, and anything would be more satisfying then this predicament at hand. She settled her thoughts on something else even more menacing: The cold hard fact that she was trapped within, here, by her crazed protector who even slightly talked her down to thinking things were completely awry. And not only were they askew, her life was in jeopardy.  
Yes, that bit worried her.

Aside from the fact he opted for candlelight, a show of electricity wasn't far reaching when he handed off a hot steaming cup of Green Tea to her. Later, he presented a choice amount of warmly toasted French bread, sliced Mozzarella and half an Avocado lightly salted.  
She picked at it selectively even though the urge to shove it all in overwhelmed her. The meal had been divine even if her surroundings were not.  
The whole way, Ian watched her keenly, diligently to his feet. If anything, it was good to see her taking in the meal he provided, for he remembered a time when she didn't for days on end. He quickly squashed the random memory from mind. Rather, his thoughts turned to the present. Silence permeated the air since he last vowed to explain everything. Either way, it didnt change the fact Sara was making a mental assessment of him.  
She always was.  
Her green eyes were speculative, crushing and devout. The saints only knew what names, insults and unfounded truths they were settling on at this moment. Candlelight made it hard to make out every detail.  
She sipped her tea slowly. Not too long after her raspy-bass toned voice resounded the small interior.

"That was pleasant, Nottingham."

With a positive thought, Ian took the quaint comment with a simple bow before moving closer to her.  
Much to his surprise, she did not't bolt or quake at him with fear. Instead, her eyes glowed under the lights, introspectively taking him in.  
She met his gaze in resound, his Grey orbs reflecting a flame.

"But that doesn't mean your off the hook. I want answers, and not in riddles. Straight forward truth, Ian."

Without further hesitation, he took a seat right next to her motioning for her hand. With a moments hesitation, she refused. He knew she would. Without reacting to her rejection, his English dialect pierced clearly through the air.

"You would not believe anything I'd have to say." He paused.

"You never do."

His voice held Irritation's commanding call.  
What a powerful statement.  
What an undeniable truth she would love to counter, but couldn't.  
It was as if he struck her with his words, and she couldn't't do anything but hold her pride in hand. Before the force of his phrenic blow began to sting, his voice mellowed almost soothing when he added,

"And, when it comes down to it, my dear Sara, I haven't told you anything. But what has?" He stopped pointing to her wrist.

"That has."

Without hesitation, he reached for her hand again.  
For once in her life, she didn't protest. It wasn't long before his bare hands were laced through her's.  
She entered a brief interregnum of thought.  
_Bare.  
_Before any other thoughts could be entertained, the Cherise stone glowed its brilliance, encompassing the room before thrusting Sara into blackness.

_Blackness materialized into a scene she'd rather not experience again.  
Ian lay with the astonishingly beautiful creature, the azure-eyed vixen. Between intimate thrusts rocking and shaking, she let out whimpers of pure and simply pleasure. After a time-space, the cry of his name escaped her lips as she clung to him in climax.  
_  
Sara shook off the vision violently. Why was the Witchblade so apt on repeating a showing of this in such great detail? Lovemaking is love making, she concluded. The blade didn't need to become a succubus in visions, hell she didn't need that calling from the supernatural, the real world was sufficient. Needless to say, some recess of her found it irksome to see her protector turning his attentions to another female.  
She paused.  
Did she just use possessive terms referring to the abashed Nottingham? A grimaced expression was in order as her uncanny thoughts focused at the severity of rationalization. She would control this thing if it was the last thing she did.

_Leave this.  
Now, blade.  
I don't need to see this.  
Stop taunting me.  
You WILL listen to me...  
_  
Sara commanded for an alteration. After a few seconds, the control began to shift, and the blade obliged.  
The feeling of small accomplishment crossed Sara. To win this minimal parcel of dominance was a sign of greater things to come. Maybe, just maybe, the time would arrive when the wielder will wield this strange and beautiful amulet of power.  
Without letting her revel in her achievement, the blade took over once more, casting her into another vision.

_In its place, a private jet came into view. There stood Nottingham, clean cut, and dressed in a suit boarding with a few other men. The plane started its ascension into the skies, and as the union jack waved in the wind not too far from the tarmac. Small conversation ensued between the men before they landed.  
Within the realm of the Witchblade, time is but pliable, impressionable. Or so it must seem.  
What greeted him as he left the privatized airport was a jungle of skyscrapers in a buzzing metropolis.  
The signs aligned themselves in delicate Kanji, combing the streets in neon lights and bustling automobiles.  
Ian was met with four gentlemen dressed in a wealth of only how much yen, Sara knew not.  
A greeting in Japanese was rendered until finally the conversation turned over to English.  
Or did it? Sarah could still hear the original language, yet, she was understanding all that was said.  
One of the older men in the group who looked to be of much import over the others spoke first. _

"Ian. Ian Nottingham. It is so good to have you here! You were recommended to me in the highest degree. I must express your grasp of the Japanese language is impeccable!"

"I am glad to become of service to your family, Ishigamia Takata-San."  
Ian bowed humbly.

As he did, another man from the group came to the fore, the only one dressed in a hakama. Ian dully noted a sensei when he saw one. And as Ian would have it, he was nothing but correct. The files he reviewed back at home called him Oko Tadashi, the loyal spiritual guru and adviser to the Takata family. His fame as a grandmaster in Aikido, Kendo, Jujutsu, and other various forms of self-defense was hard to miss. He lifted an eyebrow examining Nottingham closely.

"Your form is well." He paused, taking an introspective glance once again. If eyes could burn and dig holes into one being, Tadashi was the one to do it.  
"I hope your spirit is too."

Ian bowed again, solitary and humbly toward him.  
"I would consider it an honour for you to help me in all aspects, Sensei.'

Seemingly satisfied with Ian's portrayal of honesty, he stepped into the background once again.

The blade flashed in a rapid succession; images of Ian gaining the trust of the family, a driver in the least, to bodyguard in the modest. He trained extensively with Tadashi to become his prized student. Tadashi then presented a Katana to Nottingham. The same sword, Sara noted that she observed on his wall the night before. He took it within his hands, as it became his most prized possession.  
He worshiped devoutly at the temple.  
His soul seemed complete, whole and well meaning until he was promoted to Assassin within the family.  
Sara witnessed him take out adversaries of the Takata Empire, namely distinctly tattooed Yakuza Members under the most violent banners. Controlling the Red Light Districts, Opium Trade, and Slave Labour.  
In the shadows, the blade also revealed something quite different, the show of his dual sided nature.  
The family was slowly being infiltrated, betrayed...  
Tadashi was the first to notice, and the last to speak.  
As all his training and methods were pitted against him, Ian cut his life short.  
Not too long after, Tadashi was dealt with.

Ian lingered even though he was forced to cut their lives short, after the wake, and to the family grave.  
He sated two hits put on him before finally pressing his way back to the land of his birth.  
It had been three long years, and this place held too many memories of the person he came to be, while still realizing who he was.  
It was this time, the blade let Sara feel all of his emptiness, at the complete notion of his morals dissension, and a raw aggressive Nottingham coming to the fore.

As he board the jet, he was met with a fellow British man. He could tell Ian sulked, although he tried hard to hide it.

"Hell of a job, Nottingham. Her majesty's service has infiltrated the most rising influential criminal ring on the Asian Seaport. It wont be long before we can start breaking up other crime families to get a handle over this thing."  
Ian remained short.

"Anything for Queen and country."  
He sarcastically tossed over his shoulder.

"Criminals under the light, who shine as the light. Its all the same when it comes down to it, no matter the Methods, John."

With that, the plane took off.  
  
The blade swirled, bringing Sara back to the present.  
She wasn't sure how to take to what she just witnessed, but it seemed to explain a little more about this enigma that cradled her hand with most tender feeling.  
Between the casting shadows, Ian's head was bowed, a few strands falling over his face, his eyes closed.  
He seemed to be caught in the moment . Gone was his ever guarding, suspecting demeanor.  
Sara used the opportunity to view his hands.  
His _bare _hands laced between her's. 

At this moment she wondered why she did not tear away to end the serenade of Nottingham's life-history. It was almost as if the blade was conforming and trying to change her outlook on the weary misplaced knight. Almost as if it was humanizing him.  
It would take more then a few visions to do that.  
Either way, fighting the blade wasn't something she was apt on doing, so she closed her eyes as it took her through a vision and another for-gleam into his past.

_The towering silhouette of Parliament caped the skyline. Ian had made it back to his motherland, combing the busy London Streets. A swarthy man dressed down to fit the winter called out to the moving public. _

"Newspaper, fifty pence!"

Ian immerged in front of the man, and took out some loose change from his pocket, granting the payment. He took the paper. The date read; March 4Th, 1993. Thumbing through it and finding nothing of interest, he tossed it back into the pile of the others. The Indian man paused rendering the long haired gentleman a quixotic look.

"Take it, it is yours!"

Nottingham pulled away a few strands whipping in his face and tucked them behind his ear. 

_"Keep it, and Keep it." _

With that, he brought his hands into his trench-coat, and disappeared into the nearby tube entrance.Big Ben chimed the 12Th hour, its sound reverbing under the tunnels that make up the underground Subway system.  
Crowds dispersed in and out between the shadows and fluorescent lights, and that's when she came into view.  
Pulling his hood high onto his head, he glanced without much restraint.

Her Black hair was a flood around her features cascading on the knit scarf that wrapped around three times over. Her Blazer matched her velvet skirt, clinging like a second skin. Her eyes were downcast until they rested solely on a mesmerized Nottingham. Her gaze tore through space and time, seizing him all too late before he had the chance to turn away.

In a moment of panic, he fled behind the crowds, trying to loose her advancements. He could feel her getting closer and closer, but between the mingling people, become a distant shadow. The train noisily came in as a recorded announcement came over the PA system. Ian stepped into the farthest cargo seconds before it closed, regrouping behind different ones. As it started to speed away, he could see a distressed Victoria searching in vein without a second thought to where he had gone.

And it was best to stay that way, he thought. He doesn't need another person being killed among his the fray he called his life. Especially not now, or on this day.

As he exited the tube from Westminster, he was met with a black sedan parked on the curb.  
Without much hesitation, he shook the middle aged man's hand and took the backseat.  
It rode south from the city, and onto the spacious countryside roads.  
After a while, Signs for Dover-White Cliffs neared.  
In the process the two men passed conversation.

"Good morning, Mr. Nottingham. Hope you passed it well."

Ian nodded.

"Your record of taking down the highly dangerous Takata organization has caught the attention of important superiors, Mr. Nottingham. We are glad you have accepted the offer to work among other individuals of International Intelligence. I am sure you are a bit anxious to start your new training as a Black Dragon."

"I must say my three month holiday has been less then eventful. My mind and body are ready for a new mission, Mr. Adair."

The man grinned, it was passed off as a smile.

"Good man."

There was a pause as the car came to stop.

"Look our destination has arrived."

The blade flashed, showing the strip of ivory white cliffs that lined the seaport of Dover into a secret facility that traveled under the rocks. The bustle of workers, scientists, geneticists, and military personnel penetrated the inside.

Ian then was met with what would be his new comrades: Built and focused men from different parts of the globe, making up twelve in all with his addition. Superiors from the United States, Russian Federation, United Kingdom, Germany, South Africa, South Korea, Canada, and Japan all toured the facility that would serve to be the place they train and undergo numerous Psychotropic Experiments for the sake of security.

One of the twelve, who was said to have an IQ nearing two-hundred caught the attention of Ian in paticular. He had crossed his path before, but briefly. Hector Mobious was a tall broad armed man of African ancestry who's eyes remained focused on everything around him. He worked for MI5, Defense Intelligence, creating and engineering biological weapons for the country.  
He asked questions to the lead Geneticist, a stern looking man in a lab coat.

"Welcome to Invicta, gentlemen."

It didnt take long before another succession of colours, spirals, and mazes swept through her mind.  
Realistic war training, sweat dripping, intake of numerous drugs, machines and chords.  
Intel being gathered...  
Emotional charged video training, barbaric actions, syringes inserting into the skin, screams of pain, of destruction, a total depletion of feeling.  
Intel being gathered...

The blade then faded to Darkness. Sara found herself walking amongst the shadows dressed down in black, even up to the mask that she wore around her face. Trying to pull it off, she found she couldn't due to the fact a snipers riffle was being held with it. As it stood, she couldn't make any movement free to be called her own. She was under the control not of herself, but someone else. Soon the blade materialized a different view point, of the one who held the memory.

Nottingham stood on a rooftop, positioning his riffle at a man that moved slowly from the building to a black automobile. Radio link between the rest of the Black Dragons were passed.

"Nottingham here. Keep your eyes ready, _Dudayev will be in position soon." _

Sara felt the scope focus as Nottingham viewed the movement from below.  
She paused, feeling everything he was feeling, everything he was thinking.  
From probing his thoughts, she understood the situation.

The first mission of the Black Dragons was into the newly formed Chechen Republic. It declared Independence from the recently Defunct USSR two years prior. When the country became split, the newly elected President, Dzhokhar Dudayev, took up sides to ensure all Russian Forces would be abolished from the country. But that would prove disastrous to the Russian Federation, who slowly started its descent into making allies in the west. Soon they appealed for something to be done.  
Dudayev was a rogue political figure in the eye of the Russians, using the Chechen Muslims as Gorillas to declare a Jihad, which killed many innocents in the process. Their appeal turned up the International reconnaissance of the the Black Dragons.  
An Assassination was on the horizon.

"Mobious in. Got a picture of Parseagen's bodyguard, no book on Dudayev."

Sara paused. That name sounded so bloody familiar, but she couldn't place where from.

Without much warning, the man she viewed through the scope slowly retreated back into the building. Sensing something was awry, Ian pulled back. Mobious confirmed his fears.

"Benjamin Wolf has pulled back. Take your positions for possible ambush."

The air was seconds still before a burst of gunfire. Robbed men in white came forward, spewing out battle calls in Arabic and Chechen dialects.  
The blade did a fast-forward, showing spills of blood between the mountainous region before fading to black once again.

Sara's breath was on hold. It was only then that she realized the blade pulled her out, and she was back in that candlelit room.  
She had seen enough of Ian's past to be set on never watching another James Bond movie for as long as she lived.  
But it still remained he held her hand, tenderly. The difference settled that his eyes were open, wide and focused on her.  
It seemed like they had been for a long time. 

She wanted to remove herself from this very place, to take back everything about this man. What a cold, sad, confused and dangerous life. If nothing else, she was understanding as to why he was always on constant alert. She took into account everything she now knew, and everything she didn't but it was no cause for wonderment. The list is long and spacious of those who might want to kill the man known as Ian Nottingham.  
As her thoughts took off once more, his attention toward the door that led in from the hallway sparked.  
Sara turned, speculative as well.  
Just as if right on cue, he bolted to his feet, pulling his sword from his side.  
Sara's stone began to glow vividly, lighting the entire room.  
As she struggled to control it, the door swung open, blinding the assailant.  
Voices took over Sara.

_**You Know Who, Sara.  
You Know Who!**_

_**You Know, Sara.  
You Know Who!!!!** _

Between the brilliance of light, gunshots were fired. 

_**Take him Down.  
Take him down...**  
_


	11. Chapter 11

_**Immergence XI**_

* * *

_About high time for next installment. Since I lost the interest of my readers (and I also apologize for not being more up-to-date and regular with these things) I take all the blame. But I shall continue this at open will, concerning I've opened a heck of a Pandora's box I need to fix as well as answer. For all that is right in the world.  
__So enjoy, and comment if you like._

_Cheers,  
Be'Reshi__t_

* * *

_The night was cold when her life changed, sudden and in quite a dramatic fashion.  
The tip of her hands found a variation in the form of a chill; it exceeded down to the farthest point in her spine.  
Her eyes focused on the polished wood floor below her. Eventually the glances sporadically caught the fringe of nearby Persian rug._

_Figures came into view.  
One in particular, an older woman elegantly dressed in pearls and Gucci, continued to converse her words in empty air. She was sure her revelation was relevant, but only her lips moved, alongside her hands that's swayed by her side. It was matter of minutes as more banter was exchanged between an equally dressed gentlemen that became her company.  
More words melted into the conversation piece until the distant girl that suffered so alone spurred to the surface.  
From the depths; in extensions rising above the static and pictures, past the smokey goblets of nothing indelibly something began to surface._

_Words... words etching:_

_**You don't have a daughter. No matter what you would have me believe, I know YOU could never be related to ME...**_

Pictures reverted, faces faded. It replaced itself with dense darkness that shifted dramatically with the increase of light.

Brilliant light.  
And Gunfire.  
And between gunfire, the return mantras, voices, screams of collective chaos.

_**Take Him Down!  
**__**You Know Who!  
**__**NO!  
**__**YES!  
**__**NO!  
**__**YES!  
**__**Take Him down!  
**__**Protect Yourself...  
**__**Listen No More! Kill Him...  
**__**TAKE HIM DOWN...  
**__**NO!!  
**__**YES!!  
**__**You know who Sara.. Take Him Down!  
**__**Protect Yourself...**_

Light surrounded for moments more as Sara fought off the tirade of split ideas spinning in her head.  
As it slowly settled, and the voices surrendered to her willing of them away, she turned her attentions at the situation present before her.  
Ian Nottingham came into view, hair concealing his face.  
Sara could tell he had his fist forced around something.  
It wasn't long until his gaze shifted to the focus on the assailant before him.

She was clad in a black trench coat with a hood veiling her features and a gun drawn at her side.  
With a swift motion and look of covert disgust, she threw it to the ground.  
It slide across the floor with an echo that plastered off the floor.  
It had become apparent that there was no more use for it.

Even though Sara couldn't make out any specific details, it didn't take rocket science to figure out where her eyes were geared.  
Nottingham in response raised his clenched fist, finally flexing it open.  
It was then that five shell casings fell to the ground.

A gasp escaped her lips, followed by eyes in amazement.  
She heard the great escapades of Nottingham catching bullets with his bare hands.  
She wasn't sure if she ever believed it.  
But then again, she was becoming a believer in much.  
She would just have to add this to that expounding and growing list that never seemed to have any limits when the Witchblade was involved.  
Yes, that is what she would do.  
Still, her reasonable side wanted to dispute it. Counter it.  
But when would she learn?  
Reason was not a word worth mentioning when Ian Nottingham figured into things.  
So at this, she just piled this scenario into the back of her mind while settling on the fact normal shouldnt be thought of either.

A linger of something else also crossed her mind:  
Not only did Nottingham catch those bullets while blinded, but somehow this mysterious woman, on top of not being able to see herself, managed to lock her target so sufficiently that if it was any other person besides Nottingham, they would have been dead.  
Sara distinctly called in the casin point that the door was barely swung before the light penetrated inside the room.  
So How did she even know where Nottingham was?  
Before any more thoughts could be entertained on the strange assement between the two before her, her attentions were were turned.

Nottingham was raising his sword. The look that passed his features only said one spoke one thing:  
The taking care of unfinished business.  
And from the short sword that was produced from under the shadowed figure's trench,  
the same line of thought was tracking her mind as well.  
Wait? She knew how to sword-fight as well? Sara thought.  
It was a quick thought, before it was dismissed.  
Why Not?

Sara watched them both keenly.  
The studies of movement they both took in. Both so elequently focused on the other, measuring.  
It was only going to be minutes, she reasoned before the onslaught would be pursued again.  
Whoever this woman was, it was evident Nottingham was on her _execute list.  
_She wondered why, but then, consitering Nottingham and the what little she knew of it, it wasn't a mystery as to why he wouldn't have many friends.  
Assassins usually don't.

The voices and chants slowly started to start again in her mind, blocking her focus, blocking her resolve. They disputed once more.

_**Protect..  
**__**Kill...  
**__**Protect...  
**__**Kill...**_

The two started their descent the dual. It seems it was unstoppable.  
The woman took her free hand and vehemently tossed the table to the side.  
With the force, it slid into the side of wall, catching the chair under it.  
Nottingham seemed unfazed by her obvious attempts to incite his nerves.  
It was then soon after that her voice broke the tense air.

"You should leave, Detective... Or has he tainted you too?"

A comment meant for her.  
Sara willed the rising voices the Witchblade gathered to a whisper once more before she responded.

"I don't know, that depends on what your definition is."  
She cooed wrying grasping at anything to divert her attentions.  
It didn't work.

"I like you Pezzini, but what I do now is nothing on you. This is Personal. I advise you leave."

Sara could have laughed but instead heard the whispers becoming gradually louder once again.

"You think I run at the side of blood? Or Have you forgotten I'm a homicide Detective?"

After the quick exchange, the woman said nothing.  
Slowly both leveled.  
Sara was wondering why Nottingham silence conceded for as long as it did.  
He just continued to measure her.  
Sara could tell the clash of swords was only seconds away. She grasped at something to say but the voices starting to rise again once made that difficult.  
In desperation, Sara shot out one last attempt to throw her concentration.

"Who Do I know?"

Instead of a response, their swords met.  
Each one continued to comtemplate the others defenses.  
Clashing. Up down, sides, to the front, and behind, all directions.  
She moved lightning fast, Nottingham matched it like Liquid Ice.  
The voices rose, shattering till they became screams, demands, confrontations, insults, jests, completely degrading.

Sara focus slowly started to phase out from the battle that raged in front of her, and her hands found the sides of her heads.  
It ached, painfully. Words in pitches tore at her insides, and ripped against her brain matter until finally she couldn't hold composure any longer.  
She dropped to her knees, pulling at her hair, banging her head back and forth.

"Stop it... Stop It.. Stop It... STOP IT!!"

It was a few more seconds until finally the voices ceased, and Sara stopped her rocking motion.  
She felt strong arms around her, those she only knew to be Nottingham's and with much effort, brought her head up just in time to see a flash of black daggers dashing toward them both. Within seconds, her bracelet came to life, and tentacles of a spikey nature shot out from them.  
Sara gasped at the amazment of how this weapon reacted on its own.

It picked the woman up off the groud, pinning her to the wall.  
Finally the sheer force blew her veil back to revealed features.  
Sara studied her for the first time, and somehow the thought that she was absolutely gorgeous could't help but cross her mind.  
She had a mess of dark hair pinned behind her.  
Her skin was tanned, dusky, like the sands of Arabia.  
And her eyes were full of rage that filled in their grey canopy.  
A few strands found their way into her face as she struggled against her restraints.  
They weren't one to budge.

As Sara took her in with mixed thoughts, many thoughts, as to who this woman was, so did Ian.  
He didn't say anything, but his looks spoke volumes.  
Almost intimate with discontent.  
Sara put his actions aside for the moment. Adleast he wasn't lunging toward her at present.  
That was a step in the right direction.  
Praise the small miracles.  
It was then that a chuckle proceeded from the exotic woman pinned at her mercy.

"Who are you?" Sara demanded.

"Not a monster."

Her voice was deep and husky behind the British brogue.  
It was at this cryptic comment that Sara was starting to remember how much this woman, although only knowing her a short time, was getting on her last nerve.  
And that was rare for someone to do so fast. She could only recall another person that got under skin that speedily, and he happened to be standing right at her side.  
Nottingham's eyes continued to bore into the mysterious women in silence.  
Sara just might enjoy what she would soon do.  
But the detective in her allowed another question before her temper took over the best of her.

"Who Are You?"

The Chuckle issued again.  
Indignant.

"Ask _Him_."

Sara felt the grip of the tentacles tighten under her control.  
Why? She wasn't sure. Maybe the Witchblade was feeding off her hot temper, as it usually had the tendancy to do.  
Aside from the definance that issued from this woman, she knew she posed a good idea.  
Hell wasn't she trying to get that answer from him minutes before all this weirdness happened? Still, no matter what her thoughts bounced too at present, she wasn't in line to deal with her, or this.  
Answers were going to now come from her.

"He's tainted you bad detective. I worry for you.  
He will only kill you when he tires of you, as he has done all his life."

Tires of her? That was about it.  
Who did this bitch think she was?  
His lover? No only was she a smartass, but she was downright stupid.  
That was enough to uncheck any patience that lingered.  
She tightened the reign of tentacles even more this time that it was starting to draw blood from the side of her cheek.

"I would advice you shut the fuck up on your allegations. And, if you value your face, I would like a name to go along with that."

Sara glanced back at Nottingham.  
His eyes were so cold. The intent read into them was distant and purely homicidal.  
Where had she seen that before? She wondered.. so familiar...  
As his gazed bored into the woman, Sara could feel her grip tighten involuntarily.  
And this time, it wasn't motivated by her, but more, it seemed, by him.  
More blood began to ooze as it dug into her flesh.  
It was only then that Sara realized why he had no need for words.  
He had found a measure of control over her blade Or_ something _was.  
And something was telling her it wasn't Nottingham. He is a killer, for certainty, but those eyes... that look... it wasn't him.  
The the intent for her blood was more then evident.  
It was something Sara couldn't let happen.

**_Kill..  
Kill Her..._**

She pulled her reserves to cut the psychic bond that fed off Nottingham's body and over into her own.  
He didn't let go without a fight. Such a fight...  
After what seemed minutes of an inward battle for control, the blade seemed to come to her.  
Then the ousting foreign power conceded to defeat, deminishing.  
As it did, the tentacles retracted almost immediatly, dropping the woman as a heap to the floor.  
In that instant, Ian's eyes returned to his own.  
His ice cold demeanor vanished, but apparently the animosity from the nameless woman didn't.  
She lunged once again, her blood staining the floor as it sloshed from her face.

Light became distributed once again.  
A white brilliant light.  
Flashes came in cascading...  
Blinding.

Not this light again...

As it raged on, Sara felt those strong hands grab her from behind once again.  
Their extent pushed upwards through her torso, and then finally to her hips in a frantic hurry.  
It dragged her from the movement of the ground until nothing was below her.

_Darkness_...

She found the urge to scream right on the tip of her tongue, but nothing issued.  
The white before her slowly started to fade as she realized she was gliding through the darkness.  
Not even hands that were once around her waist were present.  
Again, the urge to scream from the sheer panic of darkness and the void of gravity hit her.  
But her words didn't find her.  
They cursed her existence.

_The fear of the free fall_...

Oh god she was falling, and it seemed there was no end to it.  
Panic spread as she desperately grasped in the darkness for anything to break the eventually of her fall.  
Soon, a touch brushed her.  
A Human touch. She gripped with all her might, and it responded with the same urgency.

Soon Sara could feel that touch pulling at her through the darkness; close, wrapping around her with the need for deep contact.  
It was with that intimate association, the fear of the free fall slowly faded.

Her hands found a touch of silk, of strands. She ran them through, grasping, pressing her head to the wall of solidity. She could feel hands riding up her back, to her hips, and legs finally intertwining with hers. The brush of fabric coiled; the nudging of a rough facial hair on her cheek.  
The meshing between them soon became more then encompassing. It was then that her lips finally met him, and his forced their way into hers.  
Hands became plastered, bodies became inseparable, and then all together something else was eserotically experienced...

_Why.._

The moment of air vanished, and encompassing cocoon surrounded her.  
The darkness veiled details, but what vision lacked, touch compensated for.  
As their lips continued to thresh together, she could feel the sloshing of his tongue moving to and fro, seeking her out with much pent up longing.  
It met each time with more of an urge, more of a force.

_More..._  
_More..._

It continued.

_More...  
More..._When will it stop? It needs to stop...  
Must stop.

_Need...  
Need...  
_  
More demanded until Sara slowly started to feel nothing but the taste of him in her.

In reluctance, her tongue started to move frantically back between his looking for an opening..  
Looking for urging...  
Reaching for a longing...  
It seemed minutes passed as her heartbeat throbbed right into his chest.  
It was with the same response from his into hers.

The kiss continued between their deepest intents.

_Longing...  
Urging...  
Demanding..._

Sara started to gasp until their was no crevice of freedom between them. The cocoon tightened...  
A repeat of emotions resumed...

_Longing..  
Urging..._

Demanding of them both..

_Needs...  
Longing..  
Urging...  
Need...  
Need..._

Need...AIR!!

In a grand motion, the pressing of force that brought their throbbing bodies together soon dissapeared.  
Gravity was restored. As well as the frantic parting from both of them as they breathed in the first gulps of air.  
Sara breathed heavily, as did Nottingham, taking it in with much appreciation as never before.

Even though air materialized, light didn't. The dense darkness was still very much present.  
And in a avid attempt to find a vertical base, it was a few tries until Sara became successful.

_What just happened?_

She could feel Nottingham close.

"What the fuck just happened?"

Apparently Sara found enough composure to let the curses start ringing.  
After what appeared ages, Nottingham's voice finally broke the air.

"Were Underground..." He replied.

Sara had about enough of that response. Before she could let the insults fly, he continued,

"Were on a path that will eventually run into the Old Main Line. From there we will be able get enough on higher ground to hit the working subways. The descent below probably would have killed us but it seemed the Witchblade compensated so that wouldn't occur. It will be a bit of a walk before we can reach the surface. Care to provide some light?"

_Yeah that was nice, leave out the part where you totally violated me.  
Or maybe it was I that violated you?  
_  
Sara raised her eyebrow, regardless of the abundant darkness. So that provided the answer to where they were, but it was a far cry from explaining what _just _happened. Either way, disputing an air breeching kiss in the dark wasn't something she wanted to expound upon when she couldn't even see him to inflict bodily pain. So her thoughts moved onto something else:

_Nottingham, you've been waiting ages to do that, wernt you?_

Were he ears deceiving her?  
He described their location as if he was giving directions to a tourist about how to get to Times Square and 42nd.  
Did Nottingham impart that they were going to travel the heights and depths of the subway tunnels abandoned for over 100 years that New York City had to offer? Yeah, that's what she thought he said.  
And somehow, he knew the way.  
Yeah, that's what she thought he said...  
At that moment, as if right on time, she could feel her head starting to pound.  
Being Thousands of feet underground would tend to do that to you.  
And it was then too that she started to believe the story she could have thought he fabricated.  
Yeah, that's what he said.

"Nottingham..." Sara Trailed, "I'm really starting to think your a vampire, all kidding aside."

_That would be a more simple explanation, but nothing is that simple with me now is it Sara?_

She was greeted with a hand on her shoulder that made her jump out of her skin.  
It was then she heard his voice in her ear, hovering above her neck.  
She felt chills going through her.  
The sheer darkness was the culprit of that.

"Well think what you will, dear lady. Once you get some light going, I will gladly die under the sunlight, if that would please you."

She wished she could see him at that moment. Adleast to read into his eyes. The darkness and voices were playing tricks on her.  
It was only then she decided to pay attention to his proposal. It would divert her thoughts or the creeping fear that was building in her.

"Where do you expect me to get light from?"

In response she felt his hand slowly creep to her arm, and then the metal that resided there. His touch sent more chills down her spine.  
The liberties he was taking were so brazen, at any other time she might have just pummeled him. But within the cover of complete darkness, the idea of a familiar solidity to grab ahold of was strangely comforting. Even if it happened to be a world renown assassin.  
Gathering that this was Nottingham, and not _something_ else.  
So many thoughts when through her mind, as his touch lingered on her that for seconds, she let the darkness overtake her eyes. They closed, and her head dropped slowly behind only to rest on the wall of his chest. In a quick jolt, she pulled it up, only to realize his other hand darted to steady her.

"You well?" He softly inquired.

She stuttered, taken aback by his concern for her.  
Somehow, the tone in his voice verified that this was the Nottingham she knew.  
She relaxed slowly.

"Y-Yes, " she moved to divert his touch.

He pulled back enough that he was not touching her, but enough for her to know he was still close.  
After a few minutes of thinking and and willing, her bracelet beamed forth with light.

"I didnt know this thing was flashlight too."

She shown it in the direction of Nottingham.  
His eyes squinted, taken aback by the sudden burst of light, but eventually adjusted.  
She could have sworn she saw a smile cross his features, but just played if off as a reflex from immediate light exposure after being in total darkness.

"But you knew it, didnt you?"

Nottingham said nothing.

"Will it turn into an umbrella too? I definitely could use a makeshift killer alien umbrella..."

A few seconds commenced after the jests until Sara realized the precarious situation she found herself in.  
Now would be the best time to let the sword wielding, trench coat donning, abandoned subway stalker assassin take the lead.

"By all means, Ian, please, be our guide."

_I will gladly guide you, my love. Don't worry..._

With that he moved in front of her, not before he passed off suggested glances her way.  
Another play on the light and dark?  
Definitely not.

As they started to walk a ways, between where once lay old cesspools and cobblestone roads in now lay abandoned cracks, rusted stale concrete, dust and more alergins then she could shake a stick at, Sara fought the pounding of her head. She was amazed that it just didn't com bust with the sheer force that was wretched on it. Trying to turn her attentions to something else, she decided to take into account more mental imagery she would carry back with her to the surface world.  
One in particular was the lack of rats. Somehow it seemed as deep as they were, even they took up residence in higher ground.  
She continued to walk, winding, and straight, tripping a few times, only to be caught and brought back to vertical ground by Nottingham.

_I have waited...I will wait again..  
_  
They continued on and on until Sara's feet grew exhausted and warn, her eyes grew accustomed to the unnatural balance of light and darkness, and the chills that she first had lessened.  
After what seemed three hours of consistent walking, and forging the echoing steps between Nottingham and herself, something else broke the natural rhythm of the atmosphere.

The trickle of water.

It was only then Ian physically spoke.  
Because throughout the treck, somehow she was reading his thoughts.  
She paid no mind to respond to them, not not.  
There was a time and a place to adress it.  
Now was not.

"Were close."

At that they continued the sound of the trickle until it became more gradual.  
Another hour of walking, it eventually led them to an old platform.  
It was only then that a clank of metal hit her foot, causing her to stumble once again. Turning around to see if she was okay, Sara had already shone the light on the object that caused her obstruction. She picked it up, wiping away the layers of dirt that covered up emblazoned black ink. Shining the light on it, soon the words _Broadway_ were read. The end of the sign had been battered and missing, but not that it mattered.  
That was enough Sara had to read.  
A ray of hope passed over her, if in the smallest of miracles, ad-least they were thousands of feet underground on the good side of town.

It was then that platform came in view.  
Making their way, finally they came to rusted stairs leading upward towards what looked like a more modern sewer exit.  
They started their ascension.

As they continued the climb, nearly thirty minutes worth, Sara felt her hands starting to tire.  
Ian Sensed it too although it didn't seem like he was in as much straits by it that she was.

_Almost there..._

As the top neared, a slight rustle passed over.  
That was hailed a good sign. The distant sound of working subways never sounded more accommodating.  
It was then that Ian poped open the heavy metal cover, and pulled himself up, then aided her.

After the inital climb to the top, dim lights from above them slowly surfaced. It was enough so that she could discontinue the light provided from the Witchblade.  
Ian eyed her. Once again, she could see his eyes, and they were piercing right through her.  
He looked down at her hand, which seemed still to be locked in climbing mode. He gently forced them apart, to see red blisters forming on her palms. Tearing off a few pieces from the edge of his shirt, he wrapped her hands in them.

It was then that she could see the practicality in the gloves Ian wore all the time.  
It was about then that Sara realized she was discovering more about his swarthy ways then she cared to know.

Before any questions could be answered, he finished bandaging her other hand, and then moved above another platform.

"There's one more level, before we reach the main station."

Another platform was climbed. Around this level, the view of the common subway rat was more then abundant as Sara carefully watched to steps to the next stairs leading up the more modern sewer exit. After another twenty minutes of climbing, Sara never appreciated more the bandages Ian had taken the time to wrap her hands in. It especially came in handy when the rustling grew so loud that they had to stop several times to keep composure.

_Almost there, my love..._

After one last train passed, Ian pulled open the metal closure.  
He once again exited, and then moved to help her out.  
Without much time, the brightly lit subway soon was upon them.  
They climbed up the last platform, and onto the walkway until it led them to signs for the subway exit.  
It was then that the misprinted Mosaic of _Beverly Road_ had caught Sara's attention.  
Half damp, aching from nearly five hours underground walking and climbing, it was only fitting this is where they were.  
She turned around toward Ian.

"I thought the sign down there said Broadway..."

He looked a bit warn himself now that she could take a keen examination over proper light.

"The sign was in ruins, Sara. I'm sure it meant to say the Broadway Line, on the old track."

Sara turned around taking a much needed seat on one of then nearby benches.  
The station was empty, thank god. She didn't feel like explaining her presence to anyone. She sighed.

"Ian..." Sara stopped, then continued.

"My life is already complicated. It's enough I'm kidnapped, taken underground, to be nearly killed, only to be dumped in the transient world of lost and forgotten subway systems, wandering for five hours, about broken down from exhaustion, depletion, smelling like sewer waste, only to be led to East New York in.. Brooklyn of all places..."

The last word was not spoken so much as spat.

Somehow, it seemed he was expecting that. It didn't phase him. Pulling his phone from the resources of his jacket, he dialed a number, and started speaking in a language she would have never connected him with. Words were spoken in what seemed a slow succession. It was only then that Sara noticed the language.  
She had turned over a homicide months prior to the DA and the victims family spoke the exact same... Rival gang wars between the Haitians and Jamacians...  
She raised a very much confused eyebrow.  
Nottingham spoke Creole?

After the conversation ended, it was only then he started barking orders for her to get rise, since they needed to find cover. He reached for her arm.  
It was at that point that she exploded.

"So as I was saying before you cut me off... I've been through alot, and I'm getting sick of running myself into the ground over god knows what, so I'm going to ask you again..."

_Not now...  
_  
Sara could hear his thoughts. She continued to act like she didn't.

"Goddamn it. I'm not going anywhere until we get a few answers right here and now. Who was she?"

Sara's emerald eyes raged, tearing into him.

"I will tell you everything once we get to safety, now is not the time.."

_Really is not the time.._

"I don't want to fucking hear it, Ian. As a matter of fact, I've heard that before. You better start talking, right here, right now."

He looked on at her, almost begging and pleading. But She wasn't giving into it.

_Not here, I implore you.._

He looked over again to see the subway abandoned.  
The look upon her face was enough to start World War III.  
With much restraint, he spoke.

"I was part of the British Intelligence years ago."

_They killed killed my son. Their agents killed Victoria. They've been trying to kill me since I.._.

There was a pause.

Sara wouldn't let up. Her eyes urged him on.

"Since Irons disappearance."

"Why's that stopping them? Maybe crashing their lab and killing their lead scientist was more an issue. I mean, you would think..." Sara shot into the air.

Ian kept darting glances making sure no one was entering the subway.  
A that comment his face tightened defensively.

"Nothing is that simple."

She didn't budge.

"Well when is anything with you?"

_Who was that woman?_

"Not Here..."

"Who was she?"

"Not here..."

"Goddamn it Nottingham I'm in this thing now whether I like it or not... I deserve to know."

Her voice was hot. Insistent.  
Ian struggled with the words.  
In a hushed tone, he took one last glace around him.

"Her name is Emma."

Sara's breath caught in her chest.

_I wasn't trying to kill her back there Sara...It wasn't me..._

Sara sat in shock trying to connect the fragile pieces of an incomplete puzzle.  
Then it was then the memories of times beheld over the past few days flooded her.  
Flashes of the Azure eyed Vixen came to her, the twirling of the Invicta emblem...  
A flood of images impaled her thoughts...

_Emma being pursued by the same men in black...Government intelligence.  
The confrontation in night...  
The lab at Dover...  
A man in a white coat... overlooking DNA, tests...  
A vile was produced...The flash of obscured Czechnian Gorillas killing and dismembering...  
The vile of clear liquid being injected...  
Pains and sighs.  
The Azure eyed vixen running frantically...crying...  
As she is taken in, a hammer was taken to her scull, the disregarding of her body tossed into the dark murky waters...  
The destruction of the lab, fire...  
White sheets, wires, tests...  
A boy laying under the them..black hair, eyes closed.  
The tears shed under Ian's eyes...  
The words...  
Men in droves.  
Sheer power...  
Business ventures...  
Business deals...  
Power..  
Disgusting Power..  
Words..._  
_The turning of his words, echoed in her mind..._

_**...Just to finish everything I started. Dont dismiss to quickly what you saw. For visions sometimes are only extensions of realities. We'll be in touch, Sara...**_

It was only then that Sara rose from her tresses of thought and backed against the cold stone of the subway wall.  
In Moments, Ian was down at her side.

"I.. I knew it wasn't you back there..." She muttered understandingly.

"He's behind it all, still. Isn't he?"

Ian bowed his head.

_We need to get out of here, Sara. I know he has them circled around the mansion, hence why I didn't go there. They will looking for both of us. He never knew of my abode from where we just departed. But somehow, his presence...overtook me. I tried to fight it, but he has a stronger connection with the blade then I do..._

Sara rose slowly to a vertical base. She strangely understood all he said for she had felt the same thing too.  
And somehow, as she remembered the words spoken Emma and then understood who she was referring to as well.  
It posed a burning question still within Sara.

At that, a distant memory came to her...  
Another in the long list the blade has been imparting to her.

**_You don't have a daughter. No matter what you would have me believe, I know YOU could never be related to ME..._**

A distant thought popped into her, and why it did, she wasn't sure.

"Is she...Irons daughter?"

Ian calmly looked amidst her.

"Not in the least."

She decided to let the revelation be.

"We need to find Emma before he does."

At that she stared into Ian. His head was once again downcast.

_Controlling the blade is the answer. You must remember that no matter what connection Irons has to it, yours is the finality that it will ultimately respond to._

At that Ian just brought his eyes into hers.  
She understood more then he thought.  
She sighed.

"Well its going to take one hell of a coaxing to get her to co-exist with you."

Ian responded. "I suppose so."

_Ian..._

He met her eyes in response. Thoughts returned of something she could have completely forgot about, but then realized caused her entire situation.

_Yes?_Soon the thoughts faded, and the connection seemed to be broken.  
It was only after a few seconds of them both staring into each others eyes that her voice finally broke the air.

Why can I hear your thoughts? How is it you hear mine?

Because we are connected Sara. You will see that there is much to understand...

I don't know if I can do this. This is too evasive... Why did you kiss me?

I had no control over what your blade did, I was merely it's puppet...

You didn't... want it?

I don't if you don't want me to.

I... I felt...

It's okay. Not now. We will talk soon...I need to get you to safety.

What is it? I need to know...

"What was on that disc?"

"Ice."

There was silence.  
He continued.

"Ice was a project in the seventies conducted under British Intelligence with the financial aid of a relatively new financier called IIH. It was the first of it's kind to experiment on the newly understood DNA strand to create bio-tyrannical weapons of war. The first humans made a study of were Othniel and Kadijah."

Sara listened on intently,waiting.

"They were murdered when they tried to destroy the studies. But a few survived, and from them the potential abilities that could be manifested in their genes were secretly treasured. Soon sciences in the early nineties became more refined and it wasn't long until the predecessor was launched. Othniel and Kadijah's offspring became the targets.  
They had twins. One was tagged for the longest time without knowledge, and the other went missing.  
But finally a substance was formed with the one twins DNA. It went on to become the misery of nations and innocent people.

_It was called Liquid Ice.. I regret my naive nature to this day..._

"After this one found out that DNA was used for this purpose, the labs and studies were once again destroyed."

_They studied it on my son... I killed that bloodsucking scientiest, I did. He took my life and then the life I didnt even know I had.. She was trying to tell me all along, but I kept running from her. I didn't want her to be involved in my life...mistakes...so many, Sara... I am a walking poison..._

Ian stopped.  
Sara was standing in amazement at the thoughts that began to connect in her head.

"...Oh my god Ian.."

_Emma is your sister..._

Ian said nothing. He didn't have to.

Somehow it explained allot.  
Her thoughts more so then turned to finding this strange woman then anything else at the present time.

"You think she figure out what happened and try to follow us?"

Ian was no more then certain.

"She'll will find us in no time. The only reason I pulled out back there is because of my lack ofcontrol.

_Irons would have killed her, using me.  
Using you.  
I cant let him do that to my own flesh and blood. God knows he's done it to others without my knowledge..._

But how can his presence still be here?

The Witchblade Sara. He's using it. You need to learn to control it..Lock him in...

How?

There was a silence before her thoughts turned, and the connection broke again.  
She smirked. Things were slowly starting to piece together.  
At that moment and time, a few people finally graced the subway.  
Taking Sara by the hand, he smiled pleasantly to the older woman that rang her card through the meter and thought nothing more of it.

_By taking control... You can._

Sara gaped in shock.  
Looking back at her deeply only silence bekoned.


End file.
